Set Fire to the Third Bar
by Katria Bloom
Summary: H/D, Harry Potter goes missing on a rather uneventful sunday afternoon


_This was written for the hdremix over on LJ for mayflo.

* * *

_

**Set Fire to the Third Bar**

* * *

_I touch the place where I'd find your face  
My fingers in creases of distant dark places _

_-Snow Patrol_

* * *

Harry could feel a heavy, calloused hand slide down his back before it slipped beneath the flimsy waistband of the knickers of coarse black lace he was forced to wear. He tried to pull away from the touch but he couldn't; the chain circling his ankles was already stretched to the limit.

He kept his eyes squeezed closed, knowing simply from the heavy breathing and the rough touch that it was Walden Macnair. He was slightly relieved at the prospect, because Macnair wasn't prone to talking when he was with him. He was usually coarse and fumbling, but it never took him long to come with an unpleasant grunt. The grunt was always the same.

Macnair landed a hard kick in the middle of his back and Harry toppled to the floor, his teeth shredding the inside of his cheek as his face bounced against the stone. He didn't have enough energy to climb back up, so he simply lay there, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady.

Harry was no longer sure how long he had been held captive…wherever he was. He just knew that during the length of his captivity he had been degraded day in and day out. He had been visited by Death Eater after Death Eater, some who he knew and some who he didn't. It's the worst when Voldemort comes, his bony, icy fingers wrapping around Harry's neck as he tells him how very much he has lost.

Harry usually tries his best not to think about all he has lost because the thought hurts more than he'd like it to. He had friends, he had love, he had a purpose, and in a short moment it had all changed. In one moment it was all over. Now he wasn't sure if he would ever be free, or if he would ever be able to defeat Voldemort.

His breathing is forcibly altered when Macnair forces himself into Harry in one swift motion that feels just as wrenching as the first time. He draws out and it feels as though he's drawing Harry's organs out before he thrusts back in, harder than before. Harry forces his mind to go blank and he holds his breath, swallowing a mouthful of blood and trying his best not to break. The thrusts quicken and become sporadic and it takes everything he has not to make a noise. Then Macnair grunts, rips himself free from Harry's body, and lets his robes fall back into place before pulling up Harry's knickers, letting the elastic snap against already bruised skin. It makes his eyes ache, but he forces himself to _not fucking cry_, not even when he's alone. He won't let them have that.

He curled up his legs before the semen dripping down the back of his thighs stiffened. The sweat that coated his skin like a film cooled, giving him with goose bumps. He tried his very best to fall asleep, but nothing in his mind would allow slumber to come. Finally he tried to bring forth the thought that had brought him comfort so many times during his captivity: He would be rescued. The Order knew who had taken him. It would only be a matter of time before they discovered where he was being held. They wouldn't just leave him alone at the mercy of Death Eaters who could, and would, kill him at any moment.

The Order would come. They would. Any day. They would come, destroy his captors, and all would be fine. It would be fine; Hermione would hug him and cry all over the place, Ron would pat him on the shoulder and call him 'mate', and Draco…he wasn't sure what Draco would do. He might just stand there, staring at Harry like it was the first time he had ever seen him. He might be angry that the Death Eaters had lost Harry when he had so carefully delivered him to them. He might be mad at Harry for surviving. He might cry silently, afraid that if he touched Harry he would disappear. Harry wants him to approach him hesitantly, to lay his hands on his cheeks and simply lay their foreheads together, the tips of their noses brushing ever so often. He knows that Draco wouldn't, couldn't, but he wishes it anyway.

His arms tighten around himself, the shivers still wracking his body. He keeps his eyes closed, imagining he can feel the warmth of Draco's skin on his forehead, the tickling brush of the black fur circling the cuffs of the leather trench coat Draco wears all the time. He whispers 'thank you' over and over again, and he's sure that Draco is smiling.

Mirroring his smile, Harry drifted off into a fitful slumber.

* * *

He could still remember the haunted look that Professor Snape had pinned him with as they fled Hogwarts and he remembers thinking that he must have the same look reflecting from his eyes.

Snape had told him to keep running, to not stop until he reached the point outside of the grounds where he could Apparate. He heard Potter's voice echoing from behind him. It was then that he stopped, his breath jumping in his throat as he disappeared into the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. Even from this dark hiding place he could see hate and something akin to disappointment in Potter's gaze. The firelight radiating from Hagrid's hut seemed to lend him an unearthly quality and for a moment Draco felt fear twist in his gut, a fear that only the Dark Lord himself could bring to life.

Draco found himself frozen for a moment before stumbling backward, tripping over a lump of tangled roots as he fled, trying not to listen to the screams and shouts coming from Hogwarts. Not even when a sharp rainbow of spells passed by him did he stop.

Sitting in a dark corner of the Hog's Head with his fur-trimmed collar pulled up and under a concealment charm, he can still see the flashes of spells that zoomed past him that night. Draco narrowed his eyes a bit as he watched another hooded figure drop down at the oily bar. There were four of them in all now, and Draco only recognized two of them: his uncle Rabastian Lestrange and Professor Snape. He had half-heartedly hoped that his father would make an appearance, but knew that he would never lower himself so much as to frequent such a lowly establishment. Draco itched to get closer to the huddled group, but didn't dare. Snape had taught Draco the concealment charm and was just as skilled at looking through it, and he didn't want his former professor to know that he was disobeying a direct order.

Snape had told him to stay hidden. He had been dropped off in Italy at a villa he soon found out was owned by Blaise Zabini's mother. She wasn't there but Blaise shortly was, eyeing Draco with a sort of detached interest. Neither of them felt they could trust the other. Blaise claimed that he didn't care about the war, that he simply took after his mother when it came to her cunning ability to slither her way out of unsavoury situations. Draco found out that his plan was to hide out in Italy until one of the sides killed off the other, and return to England after the dust settled.

At first Draco was infuriated by the fact that Snape had expected him to lounge about with Zabini while the rest of the Wizarding World collapsed. How could he, after seeing what he had seen at Hogwarts the night that Dumbledore was killed? He had made a choice and after seeing the consequences of that choice he knew he had to fight to try to reverse what he had done.

He had fumed and yelled to Zabini for hours, pacing and shouting until his voice faded. He stopped then, waiting for a response from the other boy. Blaise had his lips pursed, a small wrinkle between his arched eyebrows. He finally looked at Draco and said, "What does this war have to do with us? This is between the Dark Lord and Potter, no one else. Whoever wins, wins. Nothing that either one of us can do will change anything. In the end, it will be the Dark Lord and Potter. Either way, life goes on."

This logic was not unfamiliar to Draco. It was the logic he himself had before his own life had been thrown into the equation. When he had been sent on an impossible mission as a punishment for his father's failings, he knew that it wasn't just about Voldemort and Potter, it was about everyone. It was then that he discovered that to Voldemort, a life was a life. It didn't matter who died at the end of his wand as long as someone did. It could be Draco himself, his mother, Harry Potter, or a random Muggle who wouldn't even know his name. At the time this thought both shocked and terrified him. He realized that no matter how much he tried or how much he did for Voldemort's cause, he was still dispensable to him. He could easily be killed and replaced.

Draco didn't try to push Zabini any more after that. He watched Zabini lazily slide a hand over his bare chest with a sort of detached interest and as much as he appreciated his classmate's physique, he had entirely too much to think about. He simply told him that he would probably be in and out, if Snape happened to stop by to check on him. He then went back to the room he had claimed as his own and dug out a bag to pack the few things he had gathered during his brief stay.

He didn't know how he was going to try to fix what he did, just like he didn't know if he would survive it all, but he was going to try. Both sides were probably looking for him and he wasn't sure which side would want to kill him more.

The night before he left the first time Zabini ducked into his Draco's bedroom silently, slipping a hand into Draco's pants and quietly pleading for Draco not to pull away. He wasn't very keen on doing so, but he didn't say anything. He found himself pressed against the headboard as Zabini slid into his lap, pressing the lengths of their cocks together as he began stroking them both in earnest, trying his best not to pant against Draco's neck.

Draco knew that if he opened his eyes he wouldn't be able to look away from the deep contrast of his skin against Zabini's. Merely the white-hot heat of his hand was enough for Draco to notice the difference between them. The skin contact was beginning to raise beads of sweat on Draco's forehead. As Zabini's hand sped up he knew that neither one of them were going to last much longer. Just as he predicted, Zabini came hard, his breath catching once, twice, and finally a third time. His hand didn't slow down, and his slick come made his hand slide even easier.

Draco held his breath as he came, covering Zabini's dark, nimble fingers. He opened his eyes as he felt the other boy's lips graze over the corner of his mouth. He turned his face away, forcing Zabini to kiss behind his ear instead. After a long moment Zabini settled down in Draco's bed, falling asleep with a leg thrown over him.

He knew that he was going to leave Zabini lying there asleep, and more than likely would never see him again. Zabini could live his life carefully avoiding the dealings in England, but Draco knew that he couldn't. His life was in England. His mother was there. The war…the war was something that he couldn't just leave behind. He tried to go to sleep, but it wouldn't come. He lay there until the first glimpses of the sun made an appearance and he slipped out of bed, spelling himself clean before throwing the duvet back over Zabini.

He left before the sun had the opportunity to penetrate the heavy curtains of the bedroom.

* * *

Ron couldn't just sit there anymore. He could no longer just watch Hermione frantically pace, wiping away her constant flow of tears. They both had been locked inside Grimmauld Place under constant supervision so they wouldn't, in the words of Ron's father, 'Do something rash'. Hermione had very nearly pulled out all of her hair, sobbing and ranting about how they could be looking for Harry right then. It hurt for Ron to see Hermione helpless, knowing that no amount of studying or research could help them.

He had escaped outside, very aware of the fact that his mum was watching him from the small window over the kitchen sink. He sat down on the cold stone perch that led out into the tiny overgrown backyard of the house. He drew up his knees, squeezing his eyes closed. He took in a deep breath of the fresh air that blew against his face, and he suddenly felt as if a heavy load had been thrown over his shoulders, all of his bones aching from the inside.

It had been nearly three months, and there was nothing. No leads. Harry had simply disappeared on his way to Diagon Alley on a rather unremarkable Sunday morning. Ron remembered Hermione being apprehensive because Harry had insisted that he should go alone. He remembered Hermione had tried to explain why she didn't want Harry to go alone, besides the obvious, but she had been extremely vague. He had been annoyed with her and she finally whispered _He's meeting Malfoy, Ron. They've been working together, and…I don't trust Malfoy. Not even an inch._

That changed Ron's mind, but Harry was already gone. Anger had filled Ron, anger that he regretted when Harry didn't come back. He knew that Malfoy had something to do with his disappearance, but didn't want to tell the Aurors. This was personal.

He and Hermione would have to be the ones who tracked Malfoy down, but they wouldn't be able to do that until they could leave the bloody house. Frustrated, he picked up a loose stone from the perch and threw it.

Ron's hand wrapped tightly around another loose stone. There was a shift in his brain and he screamed from his gut, screamed until his voice broke and hot tears scorched his skin. He felt himself drawn tightly against his mother's chest as she whispered muffled comforts into his hair.

"We'll find him love, we will," she said as he snaked his arms around her, his legs sprawled awkwardly out in front of them. "We've got every member of the Order looking for him. We'll find him, and he'll be okay."

"How can he be okay?" Ron ground out. "He can't be alive! They're Death Eaters! I'm trying to be positive, but…there's no way he's…" He trailed off and he felt her grip on him tighten.

"Oh love…" Molly whispered through a tear-soaked tone. "You don't have to be so strong. He's your best friend. We all…we all miss him. We'll see Harry again. We'll find him, we will."

Ron sniffled and noticed that she was rocking him a bit. He was silent for a bit before saying, "I hate that Hermione and I can't do anything. We're just sitting here worrying and feeling so bloody _useless_. If it were the other way around, Harry would stop at nothing to find either of us. We need to do something, Mum. We can't just…" he chuckled a bit through his tears. "Hermione's driving me crazy."

Mrs. Weasley laughed as well, wiping her tears away with the back of her hands. She sighed as she pulled back from Ron to look him in the eye. "I don't know what I would do if I had to worry about you and Hermione too. It's bad enough not knowing where Harry is, or if he's alright. I don't want to have to worry about you too, Ron."

"You'll worry about me anyway," Ron said with a lopsided smile.

She studied him for a moment, her lips pursed. "I could go back to the Burrow and watch the clock," she said before looking down to straighten her apron methodically, hiding her new flood of tears. "You'll write me every opportunity you get, of course."

"Of course," Ron agreed quickly. "I…you're going to let us go?"

"Don't tell your father," she added with a light scowl. "And be careful, of course. Please be careful."

"I know, I know," Ron said as he quickly stood. "If I don't die you'll kill me."

"Too right I will," she added, standing up as she retied her apron, finally looking up at him, her eyes shining. "I'll go pack you two a lunch," she said in a controlled tone.

She turned to leave, and Ron caught her shoulder. She squeezed her eyes closed, taking a steadying breath. She turned around and found herself wrapped in her youngest son's arms, and she found her eyes prickling with a fresh wave of tears. "Now Ron…" she started, but couldn't finish her thought. He pulled back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered, and a soggy smile surfaced on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Yes, well…" she said, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "You best be on your way before Tonks and Remus come back."

He nodded, brushing past her. He lingered in the doorway, his hand resting lightly on the door knob. "I love you, Mum," he said, and she turned, a sad smile on her face.

"I love you too, now go before you make me cry some more," she replied. Ron offered a wide smile before disappearing through the door.

He burst through the door to Hermione's bedroom, where she sat at the end of the bed, her head cradled in her hands. She looked up at him. "What are you…?"

"We're going Hermione," Ron said, pulling a bag out of her closet. "Pack a bag. We're going to look for Harry."

"We…we're…?" Hermione sputtered, rising and pushing back her very frizzy hair.

"Mum's letting us go," Ron said quickly. "We've got to hurry."

"We'll go to the Leaky Cauldron," she said as she pulled open a drawer, pulling clothes out of it. "We can get a room there and work out a plan to find out where Malfoy is. Undercover, I suspect. I should probably bring a few books so we can brush up on concealment charms…we might even be able to make a Polyjuice potion…Bloody Malfoy, I don't know if I'll be able to restrain from hurting him Ron, I really don't…" she looked up and Ron was still standing there. "Well go on then! Go pack!"

Ron smiled at her before rushing off to his room.

* * *

_One Year Earlier_

* * *

It was bloody freezing. Draco was watching a Death Eater he knew to be Malcolm Baddock, who was a few years younger than him, try to nervously sell a locket inside Borgin and Burkes. Mr. Borgin seemed less than impressed with the young boy, who seemed entirely too nervous about the entire situation.

Draco drew his hood up farther and cast a quick Concealment charm on his face before inching closer to the window, trying to get a better view of the heavy locket that Baddock had dangling from his left hand. He was swinging it too much for Draco to get a good look.

It finally looked as if Mr. Borgin had enough of Baddock and favoured him with a rather rude gesture before the skittish boy left the shop, looking flustered. Draco shadowed him for a few steps, listening to him grumble to himself.

"…Bloody Mundungus Fletcher, selling me shite he's nicked from old women…"

Draco's ears perked up when he heard that name and he called, "Oy, how much do you want for that locket?" He was glad he had remembered to deepen his voice a bit.

Baddock whipped around, his fist tightening around the silver chain. "Who are you, then?"

"A potential buyer, that's all you need to know," Draco amended, stepping closer and raising a gloved hand, gathering the heavy pendant in his hand. He instantly recognized it, and his stomach tightened. "How much for it?"

"Twenty Galleons," Baddock said, lifting his chin a bit.

Draco snorted, sure that it had been purchased from Mundungus Fletcher for much less. Still, he shelled out the money and gathered the locket, dropping it into his pocket. "Thanks, my mum will love this," Draco added with a brief incline of his head before retreating, weaving his way out of Knockturn and back into Diagon and the Leaky Cauldron. He was sorely tempted to stop off for a Butterbeer, but decided to make a short trip of it and go back to Muggle London and the small flat he was renting where his kettle was waiting.

It had begun to spit snow before he made it back, and he decided to take a short cut through a holiday-packed shopping area. It was drawing close to Christmas, he noted offhandedly as he passed a garishly decorated Christmas tree.

He let his charm fall as he briskly walked down the street, nearly jogging to get out of the cold faster. He rounded a corner and his eyes fell on an all-too familiar sight. His throat seized and he quickly backed back around the corner, hoping that he hadn't been spotted.

He had nearly walked right into Harry Potter.

Draco watched Potter carefully from around the corner, soon discovering that he hadn't been spotted. Potter was alone and heavily-laden with shopping. He had stopped in front of a window and seemed to be contemplating something inside.

He shifted his shopping and Draco drew farther back around the corner, tucking his nose into the thick scarf he had draped around his neck. He longed to be back in Italy, where he was sure Blaise was much warmer than he was.

Draco watched as Harry drew his lips between his teeth, stepping a bit closer to the fogged glass. He noticed that Potter's cheeks were chapped, and he vaguely wondered how long he had been wandering around London alone. The thought annoyed Draco. The boy meant to kill the Dark Lord was careless enough to spend the entire day by himself out in the open. Surely he must know that there are people constantly looking for him.

Draco's anger quickly deepened when the Mudblood and the Weasel approached, looking entirely too happy. He watched the Mudblood slip an arm around Potter's waist, saying something that made him laugh. Weasel let them away from the window, and Draco keenly watched them make their way down the street, Potter trying his best to hide his shopping from his friends.

He waited long after they had disappeared before stepping out of his hiding place, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His curiosity got the better of him and he walked down the street, slowing in front of the display Potter had lingered over.

He smirked when he saw what it was that had so captured the Gryffindor's attention, and wondered who he had wanted to buy it for. It was a long, buttery-soft black leather coat with fur lining the neck and the sleeves. Draco stepped a bit closer, wishing that he could reach out and stroke the cuff.

He studied it for a long moment before deciding. He ducked inside the shop, one of his gloved hands still wrapped around the frigid chain of Salazar Slytherin's locket. The sudden burst of warmth from the shop made his skin tingle.

* * *

_There is no peace that I've found so far._

_-Snow Patrol_

* * *

Harry was trying to remember when everything started to go wrong. He could just say that his life started to go wrong when he was born, but that seemed too easy. He could say that it happened when he found out he was a wizard, and subsequently realized that there was a price on his head, but even that was wrong. No, he decided that his life started to sour the moment he met Draco Malfoy. It seemed unfair, but it was truth. Draco Malfoy hadn't taught him to dislike by any means; that award went to the Dursley's. Draco Malfoy had taught Harry to hate, which led to more confusing feelings with the same burning intensity. 

If Harry had never seen Malfoy again after the night on the lightning-struck tower of Hogwarts, he probably wouldn't have missed him. He would have presumed the little ferret dead and bloody well moved on with his life. He should have known that Malfoy wouldn't have enough sense to leave him alone.

He couldn't follow the thought process for long, and he furiously drew two handfuls of his hair in his hands. Every inch of him ached and he ventured a glance down at his feet. All he could see were his shackles, which were covered in dried blood.

He had been alone much longer than he ever had been, and apprehension was thick in his chest. They were planning something. He slowly sat up, his muscles catching and forcing him to slow down. He finally leaned against the wall, his eyes squeezed closed as he tried to catch his breath. It was with his eyes closed that he heard the door open. He didn't want to open his eyes, but he knew he would have to.

"Hello Harry."

Harry gritted his teeth at the sneering voice that instantly made him remember Hogwarts. "Go away," he snarled, wrapping his arms around his knees.

The door slammed shut and he heard measured footsteps approach him. "And here I thought you would be happy to see me. I'm happy to see you."

"Leave me alone Draco," Harry said wearily as he opened his eyes to see said man skirting the shadows. "It shouldn't really surprise me that you'd want to come in and gloat about how much smarter you are than me. It's because I'm a stupid Gryffindor, right? I'll spare you the breath. I've already told myself that."

Draco stepped closer and Harry noticed he was wearing full robes. It looked strange on him, but Harry didn't say anything. He knelt down in front of Harry, a cruel smirk on his face. He looked nearly ghostly.

Draco slowly pulled a wand from the folds of his robes. It looked extremely shiny, and Harry drew back as much as he could. "You're ankles look horrible," Draco sneered as he spelled away the dried blood coating Harry's legs. "We're going to have to try something else, I think."

"Your concern is touching, it really is," Harry replied, narrowing his eyes as he watched Draco's eyes slide like water over his skin. "You wouldn't happen to have my glasses would you?"

Draco's eyes lingered on Harry's lace-covered crotch before rising again. "Those knickers are quite fetching. I thought they would be."

Harry laughed bitterly as he stared at Draco's hands. "Your idea?"

Draco grinned, but he didn't answer the question. He slid his fingertips down Harry's leg, his grin widening as he watched goose bumps rise on his skin. "It's really quite a shame that you have to be kept locked up in here. I'm sure you'd be much more comfortable in my quarters. I'd have to chain you, of course, but I doubt you'll have many objections. I seem to recall you tend to enjoy…"

Draco's eyes widened as he found himself slammed against the wall, Harry's face mere inches from his. He was breathing laboriously and his skin was blotched with rage. "Malfoy I swear if you don't shut the _fuck_ up I'll kill you," he hissed before retreating, shoving Draco's head back against the wall once more.

It was silent for a long moment, save for Harry's shuttering breath. In a blink Draco had dragged Harry to his feet before pressing him flush against the wall, his eyes narrowed in controlled fury. Harry struggled against him as best as he could but his arms were soon pinned between their bodies. He tried to push Draco away with bodily force but Draco just met his hips and pushed them back against the wall.

"You can't fight me Harry," Draco hissed, licking a trail up his neck before biting his earlobe. "You don't want to fight me. You know you don't."

"_Don't touch me_," Harry hissed, even as he felt his traitorous cock start to stiffen. "I hate you…hate you…"

Draco chuckled into the hollow of his collarbone and Harry turned his face away, trying to get away from the unfamiliar scent that was coming from the other boy's hair. "You don't hate me," Draco finally said, laughter in his tone. "You love me. You love tying me to your bed and fucking me until all I can say is your name, don't you? You can hardly be this close to me without getting so hard you can't think. I can feel you Harry. Even if you won't say it, I know what you're thinking."

Harry pressed his lips together for a moment before grounding out, "_Get away from me_," in a very controlled tone.

They held gazes for a long moment before Draco took a deliberate step backward, causing Harry to slump down against the wall. Harry refused to break eye contact, and Draco's smirk was like ice. "You won't last much longer. You know that. I know that. It will just be a matter of time before you're dead."

"You must be so proud," Harry replied quickly and Draco's face showed no sign of having heard him.

Draco's eyes darkened a shade and he stepped back into the shadows. He cast a quick spell and Harry's wrists were drawn toward the ceiling and shackled there. Draco made his way back over to the door, which he had left ajar in order to not lock himself in with Harry. "Until next time," Draco said, his tone amused.

Harry turned away, but he was still all-too aware of the plunging darkness that encased him as the door slammed closed.

* * *

Draco should have been surprised when Granger and Weasley magically appeared after four months of Auror captivity, but really he just knew it would be a matter of time until they pried themselves free. Draco knew he would have to be more careful about not being seen and made it a daily habit to alter his face greatly with Concealment charms. He didn't have it in himself to change his hair so he just wore a black wool cap, tucking his hair underneath.

He knew they were talking about Harry without even being able to hear them. They looked entirely too secretive, and their furious whispering was borderline suspicious.

Draco leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face as they poured over what appeared to be a map at the bar, not bothered by the strange looks they were garnering from the people around them. He wasn't sure what made them think that they could come in three months after Potter's disappearance and be able to find him by studying a map. Draco had been looking for him since _the day _he had disappeared and no amount of spying or prying had brought him any closer. This frustrated Draco to no end, and the appearance of Granger and Weasley only magnified that frustration.

A dark little voice in Draco's head was assuring him of this that they would probably have Potter found, healed, and parading around Hogsmeade looking good as new in a mere matter of days. He scowled, starting to tell that little voice where to shove its opinion when the large bell that hung over the entrance rang and he looked up, instantly recognizing the dark cloaks that the Death Eaters favoured in their secretive meetings.

Neither Granger nor Weasley looked up from their map, but at least one of the Death Eaters recognized the pair. They stalled in the doorway, fingers twitching over the pockets where their wands were held. They finally retreated, probably deciding that there were too many people to just take out two teenage wizards in the middle of the day.

Draco scowled, watching them leave. There went his entire day's work, all because of stupid Gryffindors who wouldn't know tact if it jumped out in front of them completely starkers. He stood, making his way up to the bar to order a butterbeer before venturing back out in the street, wandering Knockturn until he saw something suspicious. It wasn't the best plan he ever had, but it was a plan. It seemed that as much as he planned things, the real advancements always seemed by accident.

"…He can't be far, you know," he heard Granger whisper darkly. "He's probably still here, in Diagon Alley, hiding in plain sight. It would be like him to be right under our noses."

Draco wrinkled his nose. They thought Potter was still in Diagon Alley? He wondered how they had ever gotten anything done in Hogwarts if that was their thinking process. Draco picked up his butterbeer before pulling money out of his pocket to slide over to the bartender. He opened the bottle, dropping the cap on the pockmarked counter as Weasley replied in his constantly confused tone.

"It would be, bloody ferret that he is. He's probably done away with Harry and is watching everyone look for him and laughing. He knows exactly where he is, but he's having too much fun and getting too much adoration from You-Know-Who that he won't tell. Probably wouldn't even tell if he was tortured."

Draco had enough. Before he got angry enough to yell at or maim Weasley he left, feeling the heat of anger burn high on his cheeks. He realized belatedly that he had left behind his butterbeer, but he didn't have a taste for it. He fumed silently outside the window of Eeylop's Owl Emporium, the owls behind it not realizing that he was beyond angry.

He itched to say something, to do something to prove that it hadn't been his fault, but he didn't want to have to state his case and beg for forgiveness to a bunch of Gryffindors who hadn't even known why Harry had trusted him to begin with. He could care less what they thought, but still…

He wanted them to know that he would never hurt Harry. Never.

After staring at an eagle owl who was rather haughtily staring back at him, Draco went over to Flourish and Blott's. He had a letter to write.

He spent a long time pouring over the letter, trying not to reveal too much to Granger and Weasley. It was mainly to tell them that it wasn't their responsibility to find Potter, it was his. The best they could do was to stay safe, because Potter wouldn't have wanted them risking their lives just to get him back. He knew the advice was hypocritical, but it was really all that he had. At the last moment he decided to leave it anonymous, but even Weasley, as thick as he is, would probably be able to figure out who had written it.

He didn't write them to convince them that he was innocent. Instead, he wrote them to tell them that he was trying to fix the problem that he and Harry had created. He stared at the letter for a long time before finally dropping it off at the post office. He watched the small bird fly down to The Leaky Cauldron and he made his way in the opposite direction, his hands tucked deeply in his pockets.

* * *

_Nine Months Earlier_

* * *

Draco watched Harry duck into Quality Quidditch Supplies, his tatty Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck. He narrowed his eyes a bit and leaned against the brick wall, folding his arms across his chest and staring at the rolling clouds. He eyed a crisp black set of robes in the window of Twillfit and Tatting's shop and he lifted an eyebrow in interest. He straightened his slouchy hat and started to make his way across the cobblestone street to the window, but he was held back. Draco started to turn but was slammed rather roughly against the wall.

"What the…?" Draco started, instantly slitting his eyes when he saw who had stopped him. "Are you getting in the habit of assaulting people in the street, Potter?"

Harry shoved him in the middle of the chest before retreating a few steps, fury bubbling from his eyes. "Stop following me!" He shouted. 'If you're trying to sneak up on me and capture me for Voldemort, you're doing a piss-poor job of it."

"If that was what I was doing you would have been captured long ago," Draco snarled, brushing at where Potter had pushed him. "If you ruined the back of my coat I'll kill you, that is if I wasn't trying to do that in the first place."

Harry eyed the coat for a long moment before his cheeks flashed red with a combination of the cold and a fresh wave of anger. "You were there, weren't you? You were watching me at Christmas. You've been following me since…" he trailed off, and Draco nearly laughed out loud when realization dawned on Potter's face. "You sent the locket, didn't you? You found the Horcrux."

All amusement left Draco at the almost accusatory tone he was favoured with.

"Fuck off Potter, I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied before peeling himself from the wall. He wasn't sure why he was lying; he just didn't want Potter to think of him any differently. He finally mustered up a sneer and said, "Go back to molesting the broomsticks and forgetting that there is a very, very high price on your fluffy head."

"Checked into it, have you?" Potter replied sarcastically. It didn't suit him.

"Someone has to!" Draco replied in a hot tone. "You're too busy being a total twat to care about your safety." After that, he pressed his lips into a thin line. He had most definitely said too much. Potter seemed to have realized this as well, as a cruel smirk grew on his face.

"How quaint, you're looking after me," Potter taunted, taking a predatory step closer. "You're like my own personal guardian angel, protecting me from evil and all that. Strange though…you were very recently part of that evil."

Draco lifted his chin a bit, hating that he felt like he had to defend himself. "You know absolutely nothing about me or my allegiances. Don't flatter yourself in thinking that you do. I'm just trying to make sure you don't faff off and die before you have a chance to kill the crazy man who's trying to kill off everyone without the bloody Dark Mark on their arm. My motives are completely selfish, I assure you."

Potter's eyes were lingering on the covered inside of Draco's forearm, a vague look of confusion on his face. He had obviously been operating under the allusion that Draco had the Dark Mark. He finally looked back up into Draco's face, a tight smirk on his face. He forced Draco to hold his gaze for an uncomfortably long moment before he said, "Keep telling yourself that, Malfoy. Maybe you'll start to believe it."

Draco fumed and Potter still stood there, unnecessarily close and forcing his body heat in Draco's personal space. Draco finally shoved past him, shaking in fury. Potter called after him, "By the way, your hat looks ridiculous," and Draco just pretended like he hadn't heard him, even though that was impossible. He silently and repeatedly cursed Potter as he heard his dark chuckle echoing behind him.

Draco only walked faster.

* * *

_  
And dreaming, pick up from  
The last place we left off  
Your soft skin is weeping  
A joy you can't keep in_

_-Snow Patrol_

* * *

Harry awoke to dull, throbbing pleasure in his groin that made him forget about the fact that he couldn't feel his arms. He didn't want to open his eyes, because this way it was easy to pretend that he didn't know where he was. This way he could be in a dream, at home, anywhere. Anywhere but here.

His mind went blank as he felt a clever tongue circle around the head of his erection. He curled his toes, feeling some of the torn skin on his feet tear back open and start to bleed. He held his breath only to let it out when he felt teeth tighten around him. He screamed and pulled away from the warmth. A familiar teasing laugh echoed around the room, and Harry couldn't help the tears that slid from his eyes.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Harry asked, hating the pathetic tone of his voice.

Draco smirked, wrapping a hand around Harry's wilting erection, pulling it back to full hardness. "It's fun to watch you fight with yourself. You don't know whether you should enjoy it or not. It's amazing how similar pain and pleasure are, isn't it?"

Harry started to shake as the other boy's hand sped up its motion, making it hard to think. He wasn't sure if he wished he could force himself to not be aroused or to come, even if it meant humiliating himself. "What do you want from me?" Harry sobbed. He couldn't stop himself from crying anymore. "What do you _want_?"

"Open your eyes."

Harry obeyed, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to stop thrusting into Draco's hand, but he couldn't. The other boy's eyes were dark and fierce, his lips parted as he caught and held Harry's gaze. He squeezed Harry's weeping cock hard and smirked at the sob it dragged from him. He took a step closer, drawing a hissing breath between his teeth as he stared at the other boy's lips. Cruelty dripped from his voice as he said, "I want you to beg. Beg for me." He latched on to Harry's lower lip, worrying it harshly. A coppery explosion of blood flooded Harry's mouth and he gagged as he felt Draco's tongue slide over the wound.

Harry tried to pull away but the sting of sharp fingernails against his balls stopped his movement. Draco pulled away, his fist still wrapped tightly around the base of Harry's dark erection. Harry let his head fall back against the wall, squeezing his eyes closed and shaking with silent sobs. The only thing keeping him on his feet were the chains, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to slump to the floor and curl into a ball.

"Do it Harry," Draco hissed, sliding a hand through his hair as he leaned in to whisper in his ear. Harry could feel Draco's erection through his robes as he pressed into him. With another hissing breath he said, "You're so pretty when you cry."

Harry sobbed, arching into Draco and whimpering, "Please…please make it stop."

Draco's warm breath played at a tattoo against Harry's neck before he pulled away before resuming the movement of his hand, only at a faster pace. "Open your eyes," Draco repeated. "You close them again I'll put a ring on your cock and just leave it there."

He didn't want to, but he did what he was told. He locked eyes with Draco defiantly, not willing to completely surrender. They both remained silent until Harry came with a hitched breath. Draco stepped back before pulling a handkerchief from his robes, wiping his hand before dropping it to the floor.

"It really isn't that hard, now is it?" Draco said condescendingly. Harry didn't reply, only watched Draco pull out his wand. He cringed, not sure what it was for. He felt the result before he heard the spell. His wrists were freed and his arms fell to his sides like lead. He looked up and saw Draco observing him with an uninterested air. "Clean yourself off," he added before leaving Harry alone to collapse to the floor.

Harry reached out and wrapped his protesting fingers around the abandoned handkerchief, pulling it closer to him. The same unfamiliar scent as before lingered in the cloth, and it had an elaborate 'M' stitched in the corner. Harry tossed it aside before allowing himself to break down completely.

* * *

Draco knew. He knew how he had been located. He knew who had followed him. He knew who planned to capture Harry. He was surprised that he hadn't figured it all out sooner, but he had always been a bit blind when it came to matters concerning Death Eaters. He had been so concerned about Harry being followed that he had never considered that he, too, might be a target.

Harry had always said he was horrible at being a spy. He only hoped that he had gotten a bit better at it as time had passed. He had learned Glamours and besides his coat, he wore nothing that could be traced back to Draco Malfoy. Even the coat could simply be a coincidence. He scarcely ever was without his disguise and it seemed to many that the youngest Malfoy had simply fallen off the face of the earth. To Draco, that didn't seem too horrible a notion.

Draco cursed as he tripped over a loose cobblestone, nearly sprawling ungracefully to the ground in the middle of Wiltshire. That wouldn't do really, as it would draw more unwanted attention to him. He was drawing close to Malfoy Manor, and he wanted to cast a few charms on it so he would know if people were coming or going. He wasn't totally convinced that his efforts would be worth it, as he wasn't even sure if his parents were still there, but it seemed worth a shot. He stepped right to the edge of the wards that were weaved around the daunting residence and whispered a few detection spells that he had looked back over before coming here. He waited a few moments before he felt a familiar presence around his heart. His mother. She was there. She was alone.

Draco's throat constricted as he closed his eyes, revelling in the familiar warmth that almost felt like an embrace. He ached to go and see her, but he knew that she was too weak to keep his visit from Lucius. He wanted to stand there forever, but he knew that sooner or later someone would see him and become suspicious. He pushed back a lock of his hair, which he had charmed a dull brown. He knew it made him look sickly, but maybe that would encourage people to leave him alone.

His trek back into the town was a saddening one, as the closer he got to Wiltshire the weaker the warm feeling in his chest got. By the time he had reached the inn where he was staying it was a dull ache.

Exhausted, he lay down on the bed, covering his face with his hands as he tried not to let all that he has lost wash over him. Not again. He's too tired to cry. He shivers from cold and he knows this isn't a cold that his coat can fix. The thought that Harry was the one who picked the coat didn't even help. It only made his heart twinge again.

When he fell asleep he dreamed of warm arms wrapping around him and hugging him tight, warming him from the inside out. Next morning he woke hugging his pillow tightly and he had tears coursing down his cheeks.

He climbed out of bed, showered, and reset the charms that had worn off through the night. He went downstairs into the pub and ordered some dry toast and a large mug of apple cider. He lowered his head and felt for his mother. She was still there, but something was different. Something…

He stood up quickly, spilling his cider on his table and earned a dark look from the waitress. He pulled his coat from the back of his chair and pulled it on as he tossed a handful of coins onto the table.

Lucius had arrived at Malfoy Manor. Draco wasn't sure how much time he had, but he had to get there before Lucius left. Draco knew that his best chance at finding Harry was through Lucius. He ran as fast as he could toward the edge of the wards, careful not to trip over any cobblestones. He arrived just in time to watch his father press a firm kiss to his mother's cheek before handing his travelling cloak and cane off to a cowering house elf.

Draco watched his mother hesitate before following Lucius back into the house, her gaze scanning the horizon. Draco pulled out a pair of Ominoculars and watched her, noticing a wrinkle between her eyebrows that he had never seen before. She seemed to be looking for something, and Draco held on to the slightest hope that it was he she was searching for, but he knew that was unlikely. For a moment he froze when she seemed to look right at him. He didn't dare move, and he finally let out a sigh of relief when she ducked her head to brush away an errant lock of her long, blonde hair. Draco could have sworn he saw her hastily brush away a tear, but he knew his mother better than that. She wouldn't dare cry while Lucius was around.

She went back into the Manor and Draco was relieved. Seeing her again had hurt more than he anticipated. He stayed in his hiding place for a bit more before circling the perimeter of the wards, finally settling beside the entrance gate. He cast a Disillusionment charm and decided to wait his father out. He would have to leave the grounds to Apparate, as he had the Manor blocked off. Lucius usually despised Flooing, so it was likely he would come back out if he were going anywhere. Draco would just simply have to grab hold of the end of his robes and he would be brought along for whatever trip his father had planned.

Now, he simply had to wait. He wished he had brought reading material.

* * *

If you had told Ron and Hermione that they were going to run across Severus Snape in their search, they probably would have simply dismissed the statement entirely. In fact, they had absolutely no intention of finding him; it was purely accidental to be sure. They had overheard a novice Death Eater bragging to a rather sleazy-looking barmaid that he knew where the at-large murderers of the great Albus Dumbledore were hiding out. The barmaid could have cared less, and offered to give the man head if he'd just stop talking.

Hermione had scowled at this, but was surprised when it appeared that the young man either didn't know what head was, or was much more interested in wooing the woman than actually having sex with her. He continued to talk as if he hadn't heard her. It was more than obvious that he was more than inebriated.

"See…Lucius Malfoy's son, who was…a first year when I was a seventh, I think…don't really remember, just that he was ruddy annoying…" he trailed off, muttering something about a whiny boy who stole people's mail, before picking back up his train of thought.

"Anyway, last I heard he was sneaking around Northern Ireland, especially now that Potter's gone missing. Doesn't want to be connected to that, do he? That's the Kiss for sure, kidnapping Potter. Of course, I myself had something to do with the planning of that. He was eaten by a Manticore, Potter. Bit anticlimactic, really. It was an accident, mind. Manticores are more unpredictable than we originally thought. We only wanted it to scare him a bit, but Potter was being an arse and teasing it and all, and it just ate him. The Dark Lord wasn't very pleased, but it's not like we can just fish him back out, you know."

"Bloody annoying," Ron muttered darkly, staring into his mead and trying not to draw attention to him and Hermione. "He's obviously lying, laying it on thick. Like Harry would get eaten by a Manticore…"

Hermione shushed him, as the man was still rambling.

"…Course Snape's the one everyone wants, but he's the one no one has heard from. I reckon he went to China or something. He'd be easy to find in China though, wouldn't be too smart of him. He's a sneaky little bastard, but the Dark Lord's dead happy with him for finally taking out Dumbly. Mind, I'm not entirely sure how. If Old Voldy…that's what he likes me to call him…couldn't have done it for so long, than how did Snape do it? That's what everyone wants to know. I personally think he just got lucky, is all. I mean, probably caught the old man off guard, and pushed him off a tower or something. Either that, or Dumbly just had a heart attack and Snape just pretended he killed him, like those Muggle Americans pretended they went to the moon, you know?"

"Oh for the love of Helga herself will you just bloody well _shut up_?" The barmaid spat. "I don't need you in my pub spouting Death Eater rubbish, you'll scare off the other costumers. That and you don't make any _sodding_ sense."

Ron didn't get the opportunity to hear his reply to her, as Hermione had pulled him out of the pub. She continued to drag him down the street before ducking in an alleyway. She pulled the hood to her cloak down, a fuzzy halo of hair surrounding her head where it had worked free of her braids. "Did you hear what he said?"

"A load of rubbish, yeah," Ron replied, letting his hood fall as well with more blinding results. His hair had gotten a bit long, what with his mother not there to cut it when it got bothersome. "Rambling on about Muggles and the moon and Manticores and…I have no idea what he was talking about. Something about Snape killing Dumbledore with a heart attack?"

Hermione scowled, her hands twitching without the presence of a book. "No Ronald, that is the second time we've overheard someone mention that Malfoy is in Northern Ireland. I don't think that's a coincidence. Maybe there's some truth behind…" she trailed off and looked off behind Ron, her eyes growing round. There was a tall, cloaked figure behind him, standing very still. Ron was oblivious.

He frowned and waved a hand in front of her face. "Is this some weird Hermione thing I somehow don't know about?" he asked. He started to shake her, but an oily voice behind him caused him to freeze as well.

"You're both as imbecilic as you were the last time I had the displeasure of having you in my class. Northern Ireland? Who in their right mind would want to go into hiding in Northern Ireland? If possible I would take away all of your House points, dunderheaded fools…"

Ron turned around quickly, in one motion shielding Hermione and whipping out his wand. The other man was too fast, however, and he _Accioed _both Ron and Hermione's wand silently, tucking them inside his robes. He cast _Lumos_ and his sallow face was now visible, although it was thrown into shadow. He looked sunken and worn, but still as unpleasant as ever.

"Snape," Ron hissed, hoping that he sounded as angry as he felt.

"Astounding observation," Snape sneered, advancing a bit on Ron and Hermione. Ron didn't dare retreat, although Hermione made a strange squeaking noise before hugging Ron around his middle. "I do hope I'm not interrupting a romantic interlude," he added, motioning to Hermione's tight hold.

Ron's cheeks flamed, and he set his jaw. "I'm pretty sure that's because she's scared you're going to kill us. You're known to do that."

Snape's nostrils flared as he glared at Ron, who didn't seem particularly cowed. He lowered his wand a bit, studying the pair of them before snapping, "Come with me."

"Fuck you," Ron replied, echoing Snape's no-nonsense tone. Hermione squeaked again.

"_Silenco_," Snape said in a smooth, controlled tone that suggested he was very near the edge. He smirked at Ron attempted to bellow at him, but couldn't. "Now, you'll come with me because I've got both of your wands and Mr. Weasley can't talk. Ms. Granger, you'd do well not to just stand there squeaking. Come along."

Hermione hesitantly peeked around Ron before hastily whispering, "Please don't kill us, Professor Snape. Please. We're…we're trying to find Harry, and we think that Malfoy had something to do with his disappearance. Please don't kill us, let us find Harry. Please."

"Oh do stop begging," Snape replied, looking thoroughly disgusted with her behaviour. "I'm not going to kill you, you silly girl. I have information that might help you find Potter, if what I suspect is correct. I know of a plan that may have been put into affect." He sighed as he eyed Ron, who was silently raging, stomping around like a very angry elephant. "I'm going to have to stun him, you realize."

Hermione scrunched up her face, watching Snape. "Will you answer some questions under Veritaserum?" she asked, ignoring his last statement for the moment.

Snape's nostrils flared again, and he sent a quick glance around the alleyway. "If you so desire. Would it be possible if we were to have this conversation in a place that isn't out in the open? There are highly-trained Aurors tracking me and I'd rather not like to be found."

"Yes, alright," Hermione said. She watched Snape point his wand at the still-ranting Ron. "Sorry Ron," she said softly. Ron's eyes widened at he was hit with _Petrificus Totalus_.

Hermione prayed that she was right in trusting Professor Snape.

* * *

_Seven Months Earlier_

* * *

He could feel a heavy gaze on the back of his head, and he knew exactly who was staring at him like he held the answer to all of life's questions.

He didn't turn, not wanting to have another awkward conversation about how horrible Malfoy was at being a spy. Instead he ignored it, fingering book after book in Flourish and Blotts. He half-hoped that they might have something about Horcruxes, but he very soon found that there was nothing.

Harry heard an impatient sigh and he couldn't help but grin. "Bored, Malfoy?" he asked. He turned around to see a Malfoy who obviously was not surprised by being called out playing with his hawthorn wand in a bored sort of way. Maybe he wasn't trying to stay hidden anymore. In any case, he had abandoned his ridiculous hat in favour of turning up the collar of the coat he had bought after, Harry was certain, watching Harry himself admire it in a shop window. He assumed that Malfoy had decided to buy it before Harry could.

"You never do anything interesting," Draco grumbled, pulling his hands from his pockets. "I would have thought you would be dumb about the whole issue and would be going after Horcruxes by now, that is the ones you don't receive anonymously through the mail. You've got…three that way by now? I think it's three. That leaves…"

Harry huffed as he walked out of the aisle he had been pacing. Draco, not one to break habit, followed. "Stop trying to talk me into doing rash things for your entertainment. Also, I thought I told you to stop following me."

"You knew I wouldn't," Draco replied in a tone dangerously close to sing-song. "I think you like the attention. If you want the truth I would have thought you would want to do crazy things to show me how very interesting you are. I'm rather disappointed in you."

"So sorry," Harry replied before stopping outside the bookshop, turning around to corner Draco against the wall, of all places.

'What is it about pinning me against a bloody wall that you find so appealing?" Draco asked, squirming a bit. Harry gave him a distinctly angry look and Draco rolled his eyes and slumped back against the cold stone.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Harry asked angrily, trying his best to talk his brain out of the notion that repeatedly slamming Malfoy's head into the wall would be an extremely good idea. "And don't be a smart arse and say that you do leave me alone, because we both know that you don't."

Draco's jaw clenched and he went to push Harry away, only to have his hands pinned by his sides. His breathing was starting to come harshly, and his stomach was clenching and unclenching. "Potter, I swear that I'll hex you if you don't let me go."

"Tell me what you want from me," Harry said in a strangely calm tone. His eyes roamed over Draco's face listlessly. He looked crazed and Draco wanted to tell him that.

So he did.

"You look crazed, Potter. Do I really bother you that much?"

Potter's head turned red. "Would you stop avoiding answering every _bloody_ thing I ask?"

"All I want is for you not to die," Draco said easily, a cold mask on his face.

Harry tightened his grip on Draco's wrists. 'You want to be a part of the group, don't you? You hate not being able to show off how brilliant you are and get all the glory for the wonderfulness that you have to offer to the world."

Draco smirked. "How very kind of you to notice, Potter. I'm touched, really. You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you? Have you printed me a badge for your little club?"

"Fucking hell…" Harry spat before shoving Draco, turning around and burying his head in his hands. "You're infuriating! Do you ever just _talk_? Must you always _snark_?"

Draco was quiet for a moment, chewing his bottom lip as he thought. "I don't think 'snark' is a word."

This caused Harry to lunge at him again, but Draco was quick enough to duck out of the way. He grinned as Harry whirled around too quickly and nearly toppled over. Draco took advantage of his momentary disorientation to step in front of Harry, although he wouldn't touch him. His voice was low when he spoke, and he enjoyed watching the anger drain away from Potter's face.

"I'm only going to say this once because there is no way you're going to talk me into saying it again. I don't want to be one of your drooling minions. I don't want to go out with you and all of your followers to hunt down the Horcruxes together and drool over how _good_ we all are. I'm looking out for me, and that's all I care about really. The Dark Lord is going to kill me if he finds me, and I'd really rather not die."

Harry frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, I don't…" he started, but Draco spoke over him.

"I'm not done talking, thank you very much," he said loudly and Harry fell silent, looking more than annoyed. "It is because of this that I have appointed myself your…guardian, of sorts. I'm also doing a bit of spying on my own to try to place the stupid Horcruxes that your half-arsed research can't locate. Five have been destroyed, that leaves two. The snake, and your mum's wand."

Draco coolly lifted his eyes to meet Harry's, and tried his best not to smirk at the confused look on Potter's face. He must have figured out about his mum's wand, because he was neither surprised nor angry with Draco about bringing it up. He was trying to work out all Draco had said, and seemed to be having a bit of trouble with it.

"So basically…you want to help, but you don't want to help? You make absolutely no sense. You talk in fucking _circles_."

Draco frowned. He had hoped that Potter would have at least been smart enough to have comprehended what he was trying to say. He finally looked away, a lock of hair blowing in his eyes. He tucked it behind his ear before pinning Harry with a glare. "I'm saying that I'm going to help you, and only you. I'll tell you anything that I know, but don't expect me to send you word through anyone else. I don't do teams."

Harry dug his hands into his pockets, a transparent mistrust on his face. "So what, you're going to continue to follow me around? You expect me to pretend to not know you're there and act surprised when you send me Horcruxes through the post?"

"For fuck's sake…Potter, I'll stop following you if you stop playing dumb about the fact that a very large number of very unstable people want you dead. Why won't you let your friends come with you? They follow you everywhere else."

"Because you're horrible at being sneaky," Harry replied mockingly. "Even Ron would spot you. I don't want them to ask me why you are shadowing me. In case you didn't know, you aren't well thought of in most circles, considering you were a rather important player in the death of Dumbledore. Surely you haven't forgotten about that."

Draco wanted to hit him, break his nose like he had done the previous year. God, he had never wanted to hurt anyone as much as he wanted to hurt Potter. His fingers itched to wrap around his wand, but he didn't. Instead, he took a step backward, shaking his head. "You know what, fuck you. I don't have to help you."

He started to leave, but he knew that Potter wouldn't let him. "Wait…" Draco rolled his eyes and turned back around, shaking Harry's grip from his arm. Potter was hesitant as he said, "I'm tired of fighting with you. I've got plenty of people I have to fight with. Can we…I don't know…call a truce or something?"

Draco sighed, wondering if Potter was really serious. He couldn't imagine that he would be trusted too readily, and he was sure that Potter would have a few tests for him. He studied him for a moment before sticking out a gloved hand.

Potter couldn't hide the grin that surfaced on his face as he sent his hand out, clasping it lightly and shaking it. Potter proceeded to hold Draco's hand much longer than he really needed too, and Draco waited patiently for him to release it. That, or he simply jerked it free.

"I..." Potter started, shifting uncomfortably and he pulled at the front of his robes as his eyes darting from Draco's neck, to his lips, and finally somewhere past him. "I like that coat. I suppose you can pull it off better than I could."

Draco tucked his hands back into his pockets and inclined his head a bit. "That explains your…predicament," Draco said and pointedly looked down the front of Harry's robes. The dark blush that erupted over Harry's face only served to confirm Draco's suspicions. He tilted his head before turning away, throwing, "I'll be in touch," back over his shoulder.

Things were starting to get interesting.

* * *

_Their words mostly noises  
Ghosts with just voices  
Your words in my memory  
Are like music to me_

_-Snow Patrol_

* * *

He was curled up in the corner of his dingy cell, poking the sliver of soap that he had been provided. The showerhead that Harry had been sure they would use to fill his cell with some form of deadly gas turned out to actually offer up freezing cold water. He had done as he was instructed and cleaned himself and he surprisingly felt much better, considering he had been without food for nearly his entire imprisonment.

Harry climbed to his feet, his legs still feeling feeble, and walked over to his self-locking door, overwhelmingly surprised that the chain securing him to the floor was long enough to go all the way to the door. He stood behind it, staring at the handkerchief in the middle of his floor. He held his breath, his head light from standing up for too long. He knew that he had to be quick, but if simply standing upright was draining him of his energy he wasn't sure he would able to carry out his plan.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to steady himself against the wall. His brain wouldn't work properly and he was bordering on the edge of delirium, but he knew what he had to do. His hand tightened around the metal cuff that had once circled his wrist which he had done his best to sharpen to a deadly point. He could feel it cut into his skin, and he knew that it would have to work. This all had to work.

In the gaps of his shallow breathing he could hear the click of approaching footsteps. His stomach felt like it was folding in on itself, and it was only then that he allowed fear overtake him. This could be the day he died, or this could be…

He wasn't very confident he would escape. That realization was almost too much for him to take. A few months ago he knew that he wouldn't have given up, but now…now he wasn't sure if he wanted to try anymore. He knew on some level that he had to, but he also knew it would be so much easier to just…quit. It wouldn't be right, but Dumbledore wasn't here to give him that look that always made Harry extremely disappointed in himself.

The door emitted a high-pitched squeak as it opened, and Harry held his breath. Draco slowly entered the room, his eyes landing on the place that Harry usually was. He took the opportunity of Draco's momentary confusion to push the door closed with all of the strength he could muster and take the remaining shaking steps to the other man, pressing his sharpened cuff against his jugular.

"Give me your wand or I'll saw through your neck," Harry hissed, cutting into the skin a bit as he reached around in front of Draco, holding out a shaking hand. "Don't think I won't kill you."

Draco chuckled as he leaned back into Harry, pressing his neck against the biting metal. "Why Harry, we are forceful this evening. You don't really think I'm going to give you my wand, do you?"

"I will bleed you and bloody well enjoy it," Harry sneered, raising the blade and cutting along his jawbone. "If you want to survive this, you'll hand over your fucking wand."

Draco lifted his arms as an invitation, and Harry slipped his hand into the pocket on the outside of his robes, not finding anything. "You know me better than that," Draco sneered and Harry pulled off his outer robes in frustration, throwing them aside and leaving Draco standing in a crisp white shirt he had tucked in black trousers. Harry quickly pulled the wand from the front pocket of Draco's trousers, taking a step back and brandishing it even with Draco's face. The ebony wood felt very warm in his hand.

"Against the wall," Harry spat, trying to keep his legs from shaking. Draco raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. Fury bubbled up in Harry's chest and he shouted "_Crucio_," only slightly surprised that it worked. Draco collapsed against the wall, his head ducked as he let out a pained yell.

The spell ended and Harry cast a quick _Incarcerious_, causing chains to snake out of the walls and draw back, leaving Draco's arms shackled out to his sides. His delicate body was still shaking with the aftershocks of the Unforgivable, and Harry collapsed to the floor, his hand still gripped tightly around the commandeered wand.

Draco's breathing finally levelled off and he said, "I've…felt worse." He lifted his head, and Harry fancied he saw pain in his gaze. "Just like old times, eh Harry? I'm a bit surprised you didn't strip me down before you did this, I don't think you're going to be able to get my shirt off."

Harry was dizzy, and he braced himself with both of his hands against the floor. He felt his stomach retch, but there was nothing for him to throw up. He finally ground out, "Who are you?"

Draco laughed, shifting his hips fluidly. "What sort of question is that?" Draco asked, and Harry threw his cuff against the far wall.

"You aren't _him_," he snapped. "You aren't Draco."

"Of course I am," Draco replied, although it wasn't apparent in his face that he was trying to convince Harry. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"Draco hasn't worn full robes since Hogwarts," Harry said, his voice failing him. "_This_ isn't Draco's wand," he lifted the wand, "his is hawthorn, and you don't…you don't smell like Draco." Harry stood up, even though he didn't feel capable. He picked up the robes he had tossed aside and put them on, buttoning them up before stepping a bit closer to the impostor. "You may look like him and sound like him, but you aren't. If you won't tell me, then I reckon I can wait an hour to find out when your Polyjuice wears off."

"What did you think you would gain from this?" the man wearing Draco's face asked, his eyes darkening a bit with anger. "You're still locked in, and you're going to experience more than pain when the Dark Lord notices I'm gone. You're quite possibly made it worse for yourself, you realize. You may have just convinced him that you aren't nearly as valuable as he had originally thought."

"I'd rather be dead than having to put up with this," Harry snarled, tucking the wand in his robe pocket. "I don't care if I die, at least I die without giving up."

"Oh, but you have," Draco replied. "You're just doing something rash to attempt to prove yourself. Classic Potter behaviour, if you ask me."

"I didn't," Harry replied, retreating to the far wall before sitting down, spelling the cuff around his ankle off, kicking it aside. "I've got all the time in the world to wait. I hope you're comfortable, since you at least offered me that courtesy."

Draco sneered, wiggling his fingers a bit as he fought off numbness. "It must be hard for you to just sit there. I can't imagine what all you'd like to do with me. Must bring back memories."

Harry ignored him, leaning back against the wall. He wouldn't be provoked. All he had to do was wait. He tried not to notice the shift of lean muscle underneath the other boy's crisp shirt as he strained against his chains. He tried not to notice the arch of his back as he leaned against the wall. Tried not to notice the heavy, dark gaze that Draco was favouring him with. Most of all, he tried to remember that it wasn't Draco at all. Harry had a pretty clear idea as to who it was, because he could really only think of one person who could pull off being him.

"Stop," Harry finally snapped as Draco let his head fall against the wall. "Stop wriggling. Just…stop. It's disturbing to think you're having this much fun as your own son."

There is a near unperceivable shift in Draco's gaze, and a shadow of a grin grasps his lips. "You think you know everything. So bloody sure of yourself. He doesn't care about you, Mr. Potter. He doesn't care about anything or anyone but himself. The sooner you understand that, the better."

"Thanks for the advice," Harry said with a cold laugh. "It's nice to know you care."

Harry can hear rushed voices coming down the hallway and he knows that they're coming to hurt him. He listens for a long moment before looking back up at Draco, who has turned back into Lucius Malfoy. The shirt is too small, and he doesn't look nearly as comfortable as he had mere moments before. The voices are getting louder and he lifts Malfoy's wand, aiming it right at the middle of his chest before hissing, "Sectumsempra."

He feels the polished ebony snap in the palm of his hands right before he blacks out from the onslaught of spells.

* * *

Draco holds his breath when they all rush back into the dimly-lid circular room that seems to be situated in the middle of the vast number of cells. It takes a few moments to see that the man they are carrying who is still gushing blood is, in fact, his father. Voldemort is quick to float into the room, looking singularly unaffected by Lucius Malfoy bleeding to death.

"What has happened?" Voldemort snapped coldly.

"It was Harry Potter, my Lord," Malcolm Baddock said quickly, looking very nervous. He had always idolized Lucius, much like Draco himself. "He had Mr. Malfoy chained to the wall and had taken his robes and wand. We think Potter cursed him right before we…"

Voldemort raised a pale, spidery hand, and Baddock fell silent obediently. He studied Lucius for a long moment, his crimson eyes cold and indifferent. "Let him die," Voldemort finally said, and the Death Eaters backed away from him. "He was foolish in his games. He allowed himself to believe Potter had become complacent, which in itself was irresponsible. Potter is stupidly stubborn. It will be his undoing."

Voldemort watched Lucius flounder around for a breath before clicking his tongue. "Severus," he said, and Snape stepped from the shadows. Draco started at the sight of him, and wanted sorely to talk to him. He didn't move, only watched as Snape's gaze slid from Lord Voldemort to his dying friend.

"Yes, my Lord?" Snape asked, though he had already drew out his wand in anticipation of what was going to be asked of him.

Voldemort drew up his hood as he walked off in the direction of Harry's cell, drawing his own wand. "See to it you take care of dear Lucius," he called back to Severus before disappearing into the dank corridor where tortured whimpers could still be heard echoing eerily.

Draco squeezed his eyes closed as he heard the dreaded words that he had heard Snape whisper once before. There was a thick silence before he heard Snape say, "Dispose of him."

There was much shuffling as they presumably dragged Lucius away. He heard an agonizing scream that was unmistakably Harry's and it took everything he had not to run after him, even if he knew that he wouldn't survive an encounter with Lord Voldemort. He felt infuriating tears burn in his eyes and he hugged his knees tightly. He didn't know what he was going to do.

"Oh, do stop snivelling, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco looked up, his heart stopping when he noticed Snape looking right at him. He didn't say anything, just stared back in bewilderment. "How can you…?"

"I can see right through your Disallusionment charm, I did teach it to you," Snape said with a dismissive wave. "I must say you're extremely lucky Voldemort was preoccupied, because I can assure you he can see through it as well. Come with me."

Draco slowly rose, wondering why Snape was so keen to help him all of a sudden. "Sir, I'm here to save…"

Snape narrowed his eyes a bit, taking a swooping step closer to Draco. "Keep your mouth shut, you never know who is listening. I do hate to repeat myself, but I believe I told you to come with me."

Draco sulkily followed, having a bit of trouble keeping up with Snape's brisk pace. They went in the direction that Voldemort had went, and the farther they went down the corridor the louder Harry's screams and sobs became. Draco's chest was tight and he was finding it rather hard to breathe when he could hear just how much pain Harry was in. He could tell by the hard set of Snape's mouth that he too was affected.

They went two cells past where Harry was kept and Snape pulled out his wand, laying it on the rusty handle of a cell marked with a curling 'V'. He whispered "_Langlock_", and the door creaked open. "Inside," Snape added, and Draco stepped inside the dark cell.

* * *

"I've had enough of this, Hermione!" Ron hissed furiously, throwing Harry's Invisibility Cloak to the damp floor angrily before beginning to pace the length of the cell they were in. "Did you stop to think that Snape brought us here to, you know, _kill us_? We're locked in a bloody _cell_. We can hear Harry _dying_ next to us and Snape told us to just stay put because he would _take care of everything_. That means he's going to get the rest of the bloody Death Eaters so we'll end up screaming just like Harry."

"Did you not listen to a _thing_ Professor Snape told us?" Hermione sobbed. She couldn't stand hearing Harry in agony and not being able to do anything about it. "We made him drink enough Veritaserum to make a giant tell the truth, Ronald. He couldn't have lied about anything. He wants to help us. He wants to help Harry. Any minute now and he'll be back and we'll…we'll all be fine."

Ron furiously pounded the solid stone wall, pressing his forehead against it to keep himself from screaming. "I can't stand this fucking _waiting_."

"I can't either," Hermione snapped, reaching out and gathering up Harry's cloak before folding it neatly. "Especially when we know…we know what Harry's having to go through. I'd do anything for it to be me in there instead of him. He's…he's already paid his due for this war."

Ron turned around, leaning against the wall. "If it were you in there I would probably have already been killed trying to save you," he said softly, refusing to look at her as he turned a dull red. "Partly because you wouldn't be here talking sense into me, and partly because…" he trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hands.

Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes with the corner of Harry's cloak. "I know, Ron."

Ron had only just begun turning back to his proper colour when the door swung open to admit Snape.

"Oh Professor Snape this is horrible, we can't just sit here and listen to this," Hermione spouted as soon as the door was shut again. "Please say we can do something now."

Snape had an odd look on his face, and he didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Alright, you can take that stupid spell off now."

"What the bloody hell…?" Ron started to say, but was cut off when a rather gaunt-looking Draco Malfoy appeared between them and Snape. Ron redoubled his efforts in turning red. "What is that fucking ferret doing here? He's the one that got Harry here in the first place!" It was obvious to everyone in the room that Ron was having an extremely hard time keeping his tone controlled.

"Yes, Harry insisted I give him a tour," Draco spat, unable to help himself. Hermione, too, couldn't help herself: she slapped Draco very hard in the face. Draco wanted to look affronted, but he couldn't really blame her for it. "I suppose I deserved that."

"Too right you did!" Hermione said with a nod. "If it wasn't for you Harry wouldn't be in this…mess."

Draco couldn't argue this. "Don't you think I know that? If I had never…never sought him out, then…" Draco bit his lip. "I suspect I was being followed. I led the Death Eaters right to him eventually. It took them a while, but it was only a matter of time. God…" Draco turned away from them. He could feel those blasted tears stinging his eyes again.

"Good show Malfoy," Ron snarled. "You could nearly convince someone you had a heart that way. I can scarcely believe that you feel bad about getting Harry trapped. It seems like something that would earn you a lot of credibility with the Death Eaters. It also sounds like something that would earn you love from your father."

"Fuck you Weasley," Draco tossed back, wanting very much to go for his wand but knowing that it wouldn't do any good. "I'm not a bloody Death Eater." He pulled up his sleeve to punctuate this fact. Weasley had the good grace to look shocked. "As for my father, I don't have to worry about having to impress him anymore. Harry took care of that. Now if you don't mind, I don't think I want to risk Harry's death standing here fighting with you."

"Well said," Snape said in an annoyed tone before bending over to pick up Harry's Invisibility Cloak. "I've formulated a plan, and I will hear no arguments concerning any part of it. If you don't like what you're asked to do, you are more than willing to go have a few drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, you understand?"

Hermione nodded vigorously, and both Ron and Draco set their jaws.

Snape took this as affirmation, and continued. "Weasley and Granger, I want one of you to keep guard at the entrance of this corridor. Do not let anyone in. Use an Unforgivable Curse if you have to. Granger, because I'm extremely certain you can perform a stronger Disallusionment Charm, I want you stationed there. Do not hesitate to kill if you see fit. Do you understand?"

Hermione once again nodded, looking very determined. She pulled out her wand slowly and stayed to listen to the rest of what Snape had to say.

"Weasley, you are to stand here under that Cloak with your wand at the ready. If it happens that Lord Voldemort," Ron did not flinch, "injures Draco or me, you are to do what is necessary to make sure no one else is injured."

"I'll fucking kill him," Ron said, even his freckles determined.

Snape gave him a curt nod before turning to Draco. Draco, however, was first to speak. "I'll go in. You can stand in the doorway Severus, and make sure that he can't leave. I'll secure Harry and you can…take care of Voldemort."

Snape started to argue, but Draco gave him a look that he had only ever seen on Lucius' face. "Fine," Snape finally said, drawing his wand.

"Good luck all," Hermione said, her eyes hard. Ron drew her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her lips.

They all took their positions, Draco's hand wrapped around the handle. "Ready?" Draco asked, his voice wavering a bit.

"Ready," Weasley echoed.

Draco held Snape's gaze for a long moment before opening the door.

* * *

_Three Months Earlier_

* * *

"So that's all of them, then?" Harry asked as he stared at the snapped willow wand lying in the middle of the grubby hotel bed in room number seven.

Draco pushed a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead as he looked from the wand to Harry. "You got extremely lucky that the snake died. Sort of ironic, really. It probably had the weakest bit of Voldemort in it."

He expected the amused snort Harry favoured the strange comments Draco usually made, but it didn't come. He was still staring at the wand that had once belonged to his mother. Draco inched a bit closer to Harry and sighed.

"You can keep it if you want," Draco offered, and Harry shook his head even as he picked it up and laid it with his worn school bag.

Draco sat down on the edge of the bed. The room had grown very familiar over the last four months, just as Harry and Draco had. Potter was much quieter than Draco had expected him to be, and it made Draco want to encourage speech from him. The best way he had found to do that was to joke with him, but Potter really didn't have a very extensive sense of humour.

"What are we going to do now?" Harry asked, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth in a most appealing way. "I mean…I can kill him now. There's nothing keeping me from, from going out right now and killing him."

"I'd take some Aurors if I were you," Draco said before lying back, folding his hands over his stomach. He pretended not to have heard Potter's use of the word 'we'. "Do Weasley and Granger know how close you are?"

Harry sat down next to Draco, his head lowered. "I haven't told them anything."

Draco snorted. "Smart choice, keeping our frequent secret Horcrux rendezvous' under wraps," he said before shoving Harry. "It's the love that dare not speak its name."

"Draco…" Harry scoffed, but he had turned a rather fetching shade of pink. "It's just that they'd have a fit if the knew that it was you I was sneaking off to see. Not that I…I mean to say that…well, I've probably convinced them you are a Death Eater at some point last year."

"I promise I'm not," Draco said with a little grin. "I'm just an abnormally good actor." Draco sat up slowly, unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt before carefully rolling it up. "Mind, when I was little I used to draw one on so I would look like my Father, but they weren't permanent, and I would get in trouble for it."

"Oh," Harry said, scooting away from Draco a bit as if seeing bare forearm was an affront to modesty. "I believe you Draco, you don't have to…"

And then Draco held out his forearm, his pale, smooth forearm. Harry was touching it before he had even thought to, and Draco was sucking in an unsteady breath and was entirely too close.

"I don't think death would be particularly appetizing," Draco said, his eyes on Harry's lips for a moment before rising. He drew away Harry's glasses and laid them next to Lily Potter's wand.

Harry made a strange sort of noise that seemed a fusion of a snort, gasp, and cough. It sounded borderline painful. "You have no idea how thankful I am that you…" Harry started before apparently losing his train of thought as Draco lightly slid a hand down the side of his face. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Draco smiled a bit in a manner that was almost warm before his fingertips glided underneath Harry's overly-strong chin. "That was sort of the point. I knew how valuable what I had was for you, and I just had to convince you that I was worth your time. Hence the extremely stealthy tactics of Draco Abraxas Malfoy."

Harry did the strange snorting gasp-cough again before bringing a hand up to cup Draco's neck. "Definitely worth my time," he muttered before leaning in a bit, taking a deep breath of the crisp scent that lingered on Draco's skin. It made Harry think of apples and fresh linen, and it forced his head to spin. He knew he would never forget it; never forget this. "What are we doing?" Harry asked as he felt Draco begin to work his ratty Chudley Cannons t-shirt over his head.

"You asked what we were going to do next, and I suggest we do this," Draco teased as he pried open Harry's trousers. "You tramp! No knickers?"

"Never had any that fit properly, so…" Harry shrugged, although he was blushing. "I'd rather just not wear them if they're just going to bunch up in weird places." Harry was quite keen to continue rambling on and on about crinkly pants, but he could feel Draco laughing against his collarbone.

Draco slid to his feet, making his way over to the window and pulling the two tasselled ropes that bound the curtains back free, letting them thick fabric fall over the window so it darkened the room. He threaded them through his hands as he stalked back to the bed. "Trousers off," Draco said with a smirk.

Harry stood, stepping out of the trousers. He lifted his chin a bit and made his way over to Draco, looking far more confident now that he didn't have on any clothes than he had fully dressed. Draco was momentarily confused, and Harry pulled the ropes from his hands. "I'm giving you a chance to shuck the clothes before I tie you to the bed, so I'd get on that."

Draco was a bit taken aback by this newfound initiative and did as he was instructed, shrugging out of his shirt and trousers, folding them before laying them in the solitary kitchen chair that had always sat against the same wall as the antique dresser.

"And I'm the tramp," Potter said as he vaguely wiggled one of the ropes in the direction of Draco's knickers. "You're wearing girl's knickers!"

"Am not," Draco said, even though the little green bow in the front would, if permitted to talk, vehemently protest. "I just like the feel of the lace. And it's got silk on the inside. They really are lovely Potter, I think you'd quite enjoy them." Draco fingered the bow before hooking his thumb in the stretchy fabric casing his jutting hipbone. "They were a birthday gift from Pansy Parkinson."

Potter's eyes seemed quite drawn to the bow nestled in the line of wiry blonde hair that led down to the area that Potter's eyes were _really_ drawn to. It seemed that he finally remembered the task at hand and dragged Draco to the bed, pushing him down before looping the silken robe around his wrists in succession, tying one to each of the bedposts. When he was done he sat back onto Draco's thighs, his gaze still dark. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip before hesitantly saying, "I've never done this before."

Draco was taken aback by Potter's extreme personality swings, and wondered vaguely if he suffered from multiple personalities. He could go from painfully bashful to a sex-minded minx at the drop of a hat, and it was both frustrating and horribly arousing. Draco wasn't sure what Potter wanted him to say, so he sat up a bit. He felt horribly exposed with his arms pulled back behind him, and he said, "It isn't that difficult, I can assure you." Harry wouldn't meet his gaze, as he was lazily tracing the waistband of Draco's knickers. Draco watched the delicate dance of his hands for a bit before Harry pulled them down slowly as he whispered, "What do you want?"

Harry laid his palms flat against Draco's stomach, contemplating the question. Draco could feel his heavy eyes on his skin and his cock began to harden, heavy against his thigh. Harry lowered a hand to brush against the silky skin surrounding his weighty balls before whispering, "What do you want?"

He didn't have to tell Potter, as he began sliding his hands down Draco's thighs and up his sides before he slid down to kneel between his legs, his fingers dipping behind Draco's balls hesitantly. "Touch me," Draco whimpered as he let his knees fall open a bit more. Harry let out a slow breath before lifting Draco's hips, sliding a pillow under him to give him more access. He felt the blunt slide of a thumb across his entrance and he held on to his breath. He felt a warm breath ghost over his arse cheek and he gasped, "Use your wand before you…you do that." He didn't want Potter to deal with too much at once. After all, he wanted to do this again at some point.

"Scourgify," he heard Potter whisper, the tip of his wand just barely sliding past his ring of muscle. It took everything he had not to bear down at the presence of something inside him, especially as a warm tingle overtook his sensitive flesh. The wand jutted inward momentarily before it was removed. He heard it clatter as it hit the floor.

Draco finally spared a glance towards Harry, who was looking at him in the manner of a starving man. He knew that if the situation were reversed he would offer Potter a smirk to end all smirks at this moment, but Harry doesn't even smile. He's very serious about the whole situation and he presses his thumb against Draco's entrance again, gauging his reaction. Draco simply presses back against, meeting Harry's pressure with his own. Vilified, Potter pushed a bit more only to draw a hiss from Draco. "What? What?" Potter says quickly, pulling his hand away as if he has been burned.

"No, I'll just need a bit of lubricant," Draco replied in a soft tone. He drew up his other leg, causing his stiff cock to fall back against his stomach.

Harry looked momentarily shocked, and it was obvious that he didn't have any lubricant. He seemed to work through his problem on his own, as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth before saying, "I can…well…is it alright if I use my mouth?"

Draco had to close his eyes for a moment, as hearing Harry said that had sent a dangerous pulse of pleasure through his groin. "More than alright," he finally replied in a breathless sort of voice.

Then he feels the hesitant swipe of a scalding tongue before tentative fingers gently pull apart his arse cheeks before sliding farther in. Draco could cry at this moment, but he doesn't. He can feel Harry's clever tongue slide into him as his hand wraps around Draco's cock, pulling in a languid manor. Draco finds himself in the uncomfortable position of not being sure which direction he should arch; whether he should bear down against the brilliant tongue-fucking he was receiving or meet Harry's strokes as he received, quite possibly, the best hand job of his life. Finally he pushed Harry's hand away, which drew very dark green eyes up to his face, a question clear in his gaze.

"I don't want to come like this," Draco panted, and Harry drew back uncertainly. "I want…I want to come with you buried as deeply in me as possible." He fancies he can see a shutter pass over Harry's body and he advances with a roll of his muscled shoulders. Harry roughly hooks one of Draco's legs over his shoulder before lowering a hand to help himself slide into Draco. It is a long moment of handling, but Harry finally lines himself up perfectly and it is obvious by the tension overtaking his body that it takes everything in him not to thrust all the way in to the hilt.

His breath is uneven as one of his hands tightens around Draco's thigh. "G…God…" Harry gasps. "It's…too much…" Draco forces his muscles to relax before using his leg to pull Harry closer, drawing a long moan from him as he did so.

Draco breathes in a staccato series of breaths as the head of Harry's cock prodded his prostate bluntly. "Right there…fuck me so hard that all I can think about tomorrow is how much I want to do this again."

Harry didn't need telling twice. He set a fast, fluid pace that both knew couldn't last long. Draco's hands had wrapped around the bedposts, using them as leverage to meet Harry's pace. Their breaths were both harsh and panting, the small gasps they emitted intermingling and combining until they simply sounded like one. After a series of spine-melting brushes against his prostate, Draco came without warning, his entire body shaking and convulsing underneath Harry.

Harry emitted a keening noise as he felt the rhythmic contracting around his cock and he, too, came, not slowing his pace as he emptied himself inside of Draco. His orgasm was of a calibre he had never experienced before, not even when he had daydreamed about him and Ginny alone together in a classroom. He would take sex with Draco Malfoy over sex with Ginny Weasley any day.

It wasn't until his vision started to tunnel that he remembered he needed to breathe. He felt Draco's leg shakily slide off of his shoulder and he rolled off of the trembling boy, laying both of his hands over his face. "I can't believe we did that," Harry mumbled between his fingers.

"I can't believe you'd never done that before," Draco added in an emotionless tone. "You're extremely talented at rim jobs. You should charge for those."

Harry groaned before setting off untying Draco. "You're joking about it. This obviously wasn't a good idea."

Draco rubbed his wrists as soon as they were free. "I'm joking because I'm not sure what else to do, you prat. Surely you must have figured that out by now."

Harry slid off of the bed, picking his crumpled jeans up off the floor and pulling them back on. "You didn't…" Harry sighed, looking completely miserable in a matter of seconds. "You didn't have to do that. I didn't mean that you…you owed me something. I don't want you to think you had to…" He blushed furiously before pulling his shirt back on.

Draco sat up on his knees, annoyance clouding his face. "Oh please, you didn't rape me Potter, if that's what you think. If I recall correctly I was the one that initiated this entire endeavour." When Harry still didn't look entirely convinced, Draco added, "I wasn't just talking out of my arse when I said I wanted to think about doing this again tomorrow. I've been thinking about doing this with you for a long time."

"Really?" Harry asked in a tone that was nearly pitiful.

Draco offered a grin. Not a smirk, not a sneer, but a grin. "Of course. You're surprisingly fanciable."

His blush deepened. Draco climbed off the bed, stepping up in front of Harry and looping his arms around his neck. It felt incredibly erotic, what with him still completely nude and splattered with thickening come. He had intended on initiating the kiss, but Potter beat him to the punch. Draco could taste what he knew must be his own skin on Potter's lips, and his entire body ached when Potter's tongue slid over his. The entirely laughable idea that he never wanted to stop kissing Potter crossed his mind, and as it did Potter pulled away from him, his lips cherry red and more kissable than ever.

"I should go, they'll worry about me," Harry whispered, a clear look in his eyes that told Draco something that scared him a bit:

Potter was completely smitten.

"Tomorrow," Draco offered as he smoothed a hand down Potter's front, absently trying to flatten out the wrinkles. "Meet me here tomorrow. Please." He never thought he would see the day when he would be asking Potter for his company.

A breathtaking smile overtook Harry's face and Draco couldn't help but return it in kind. "Of course," Harry replied as he brushed Draco's hair from his forehead. "Tomorrow. It's too long, but…tomorrow."

Harry kissed him again in a way that made his skin burn and as Potter's rough hands slid down his arms and made his way over to his things, Draco gathered up his clothes and began to dress. He heard footsteps disappear down the hallway as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Bye Draco," Harry said brightly before slipping out of their hotel room.

* * *

_I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
And I, I pray that something picks me up  
And sets me down in your warm arms_

_-Snow Patrol_

* * *

Harry was folded in on himself in the corner, cradling his head as it pounded over and over. His ears were buzzing from the aftershocks of the repeated Cruciatus curses, and he could feel blood streaming from his ears. He was sobbing, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to ride out the pain. Voldemort had given him his glasses back so he could watch his torture, and he could feel the frames digging into his nose.

The door had opened at some point but Harry didn't want to know who had come in. Mostly he just wanted to die. He heard a whispered 'Lumos', and the muscles in his abdomen seized, causing him to press hard into the wall.

"Harry…"

Draco's voice was quiet, and Harry didn't have the energy to lift his head. "Please…please leave me alone. Just let me die. I quit…I'm done…" Harry lowered his hands from his face. They were still shaking violently. Tears were no longer coming, but dry sobs were still wracking his body.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched away from the touch. "Harry, it's me…" he heard Draco say, and he didn't move his hand away. "It's Draco. It's me, you're…" Harry could hear a catch in Draco's tone as he added, "You're okay now. It's going to be okay."

"STOP!" Harry bellowed, finally opening his eyes. He could see the delicate spider-web of his shattered glasses lens. He saw tears streaking down Draco's face as he raised his hands to cup Harry's face. "It's not you, you're not real. You're not real…Stop touching me…stop…"

"No," Draco replied, collapsing to his knees and pulling Harry toward him before wrapping him up in his arms. 'I'm not going to stop. Never."

When he felt Draco press his forehead against his he didn't care anymore that it probably wasn't Draco. He was there and he was holding Harry and crying and Harry could do nothing but hold on to him tightly, never wanting to let go. He felt a relieved sob escape his lips and he could hear Draco whispering something he probably wouldn't even remember later.

"Draco." Harry recognized Snape's voice and he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Snape was standing guard over Voldemort, and Harry assumed that it would only be a matter of time until he began to regain consciousness. Draco held onto Harry a bit longer before pulling away a bit. "This won't last much longer. Something must be done, and quickly."

"Harry, we've got to…" he started, and Harry held out a hand.

"May I borrow your wand?" Harry asked, and he took hold of Draco's. He felt a tingle of power that he normally only felt while holding his own course through his fingertips as he stood to his feet with a little assistance from Draco.

"Are you sure that you're strong enough?" Draco asked, concern lacing his tone.

Harry pressed his cracked lips together, tasting the coppery tang of blood thick on his tongue. "I'm the only one who is," he croaked, and Draco gave him an understanding look that he had never got from another person before. As if he knew exactly why Harry did everything in his life.

Together they advanced towards Voldemort, Draco's arm firmly wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry raised the wand and although his face was determined, his hand still shook violently. He took a steadying breath before toning, "Avada Kedavra." He closed his eyes before he saw the flash of green light.

"We should go," Snape said, walking briskly back to the door. "Weasley, how does it look?"

"Ron?" Harry asked faintly, his eyes sliding out of focus. "Ron's here?"

"Hermione's Stunned a pile of Death Eaters. I'm sure we have time to make it out of here, but Hermione and I will walk ahead just in case," Ron replied, forgetting that it was Snape he was talking to. His eyes roamed over Harry worriedly before he asked, "Is he…he'll be alright, won't he?"

"Harry?" Hermione had called back, and Harry wished he could see her. His legs began to shake and he leaned against Draco, who only held him tighter.

"He's not looking too good." Ron reported back to Hermione, and he looked paler than Harry had ever seen him look. His eyes looked shiner than usual as well, but Harry just assumed it was the poor lighting.

Harry felt a wave of nausea overtake him again and he mumbled, "Fine Ron…really, 'M fine…" His vision suddenly tunnelled out and he felt his knees buckle. He blacked out before he had the opportunity to hit the floor. He fancied he heard both Ron and Draco call his name, but he was unconscious before he had the opportunity to hit the floor.

* * *

Draco caught Harry, lifting the other boy up into his arms and looking from Snape to Weasley. Snape led out down the corridor, Weasley trailing behind with his wand raised high. Hermione reappeared very quickly, looking at Harry and wringing her hands. She very quickly had tears in her eyes.

"We've got to get him to St. Mungo's," she said frantically, dancing on the balls of her feet.

Snape looked at the Stunned Death Eaters before saying, "We've got to get out of here first before Apparation can be achieved. Come quickly, I'm not sure how much longer Potter has."

Draco's heart was beating frantically as he hugged Harry to his chest, listening intently for sounds of breathing. He could see fresh blood staining the sides of Harry's neck, but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. He was trying to stop crying but he couldn't. He was all but running, keeping up with Snape, Hermione hovering very close to his side.

"Hold on to me Draco," Snape said as he held out a hand. Draco took it quickly as he saw Granger grab hold of Weasley. He was caught off-guard when Snape Apparated, and his ears popped painfully. They were at St. Mungo's, however, and they set off toward the Emergency ward just as Granger and Weasley appeared behind them.

Snape was yelling something but Draco wasn't paying any attention. He could hear commotion all around them; more than likely brought on by the sudden appearance of the murderer of Dumbledore, a Death Eater, and a near-dead Chosen One. All Draco cared about was the fact that Harry was convulsing and someone was taking him out of his arms, disappearing through a set of doors that had all sorts of wards on them to prevent unwanted entry.

His throat tightened and he felt someone very strong wrench his arms behind his back, conjuring handcuffs around his wrists before pushing him to the ground. He saw Snape being dragged back to his feet and lead away, much to the protest of Weasley and Granger.

…"No, listen, you don't understand! He helped us! Malfoy's not even a Death Eater!" Granger bellowed, looking dangerously angry. "We would have never found Harry without Professor Snape!"

"He's wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore," a gruff-looking Auror that was holding Draco said. "And Malfoy is wanted for conspiracy with known Death Eaters, as well as being a Death Eater himself."

"The only one I was in contact with was Harry Potter," Draco said weakly, his eyes on the floor.

"He was!" Hermione quickly added. "Draco Malfoy didn't do anything! I mean…anything that he did do was under duress! His life was being threatened! You can't blame him for what he did, he was being blackmailed."

Draco looked up at her in shock. Granger was actually taking up for him? After all that he had done? He was speechless. He quickly looked over to Weasley, who didn't look too shocked by what she had said.

The Auror holding him seemed to think about what she was saying. Draco found his sleeve quickly pushed up, and the Auror sniffed when he didn't find a Dark Mark.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Weasley said in a light tone that seemed to infuriate the Auror. Draco found his hands unceremoniously released from the cuffs and he was roughly pushed to the floor by the Auror.

"Don't go anywhere Malfoy," he spat.

Draco climbed to his feet, not meeting his eyes. "There isn't anywhere else I want to be."

The Auror left in a huff, and Draco turned to Potter's two best friends. "I…I don't know what to say. You didn't have to do that."

Weasley offered a shrug, and Granger smiled fondly. "We did," she said. "You've been such a help for Harry. More so than we have been."

Draco averted his eyes. "I haven't. I may have helped him find those Horcruxes, but all I did was get him caught. My father was…he was the one who captured Harry. He followed me, and I led him right to…" Draco's eyes were burning again, and he refused to cry. "Harry was so angry to see me. He knew that it was my fault."

He could feel Granger lightly touching the back of his hand, but he refused to look up. "You didn't know," she whispered. "You had no way of knowing. I'm sure Harry didn't…we did think you had something to do with it, we were convinced you knew where he was. Snape found us though, and after all that he told us we knew that it wasn't you. He said you never chose to be involved. You were like Harry…a victim of circumstance."

"It's my fault he's nearly dead," Draco whispered, and he wasn't trying to hold in his tears anymore. "God…I don't know what I'll do if he dies."

Weasley cleared his throat and tried to nonchalantly wipe away his tears. "It's not your fault mate, it's You-Know-Who's."

Draco started when Weasley said 'mate', but Granger seemed to not have noticed. She added, "And he's not going to die. He's Harry. It's what he's best at, not dying. He's sort of known for it."

* * *

Hours had passed with no word. Hermione, Ron, and Draco had set off to find a nearby place to sit after the first hour and they sat in a huddle, exhausted but unable to sleep. Hermione was leaning on Ron's shoulder and had after a moment's hesitation snatched up one of Draco's hands in both of hers, pulling it over into her lap. He had looked confused for a moment before squeezing her hand.

"I wonder if Professor Snape is alright," Hermione asked after a lengthy silence.

Ron shifted in his seat before stretching his arm out around Hermione's shoulder. "He saved Harry Potter. I think the Ministry would agree that saving Harry Potter sort of overshadows everything else he has done."

Hermione nodded. "As soon as we know something about Harry I'll…go see what I can find out about Professor Snape."

She felt Draco shift next to her and she turned to look at him. He had his head bowed, his hair framing his face. He had his eyes closed, though she could see fresh tear tracks on his cheeks. He was completely silent, his lips pressed together tightly. His free arm was wrapped around his stomach, his fingers digging into his side.

"Draco, would you like me to get you something to drink?" she asked, and he opened his eyes, staring at the floor in front of him.

"No thank you."

"I'll get something," Ron volunteered before standing up, heading off in the direction of the cafeteria.

Hermione watched Draco watch the floor for a moment before saying, "I know about you and Harry."

Draco eyes shifted to her and he held a look of veiled shock. "What do you know?"

"That he loves you," Hermione added with a small grin. "I worked out who he was sneaking off to see fairly quickly. He's pretty transparent; we'd so much as mention you and he'd blush darker than Ron. Then he wanted to talk about you. I mean, he's always talked about you a lot, but…when he was talking about you the past year, it was the only time I really saw him alive."

Draco looked away from her quickly. "Anything else?" he asked, his tone controlled.

"I also know that you love him too," she added, and she saw his shoulders tighten. "Don't worry; it's not a bad thing. You're probably convinced it's a weakness, aren't you? That it's because you cared about Harry in the first place that he's in this predicament."

Draco swallowed thickly and it was all the confirmation that Hermione needed.

"It's because you cared that he survived," she finished, squeezing his hand between her own. "And you and I both know that he's going to be so proud that you loved him enough to sneak into the belly of the beast by yourself to save him all on your own. That's incredibly brave. One might think Harry has had an impression on you."

Draco snorted with laughter and she took that moment to draw him into a hug. He stiffened momentarily but soon relaxed into her hug, even returning it a bit.

"All they had cold was pumpkin juice," Ron said awkwardly, and Hermione pulled away from Draco to see Ron precariously balancing three paper cups of juice in his grip.

"Thanks," Hermione said brightly as she took two of the cups from him, keeping one for herself and handing the other to Draco.

"Cheers," Ron said before taking a drink of his own, the other two not far behind.

They had drank about half of their cup when the warded doors swung open, spitting out a rather harried-looking Healer. "You're here for Mr. Potter?" he asked, pushing up his glasses with a single finger.

"Yes," Ron said as they all three stood.

"Excellent," the Healer said, clapping his hands together.

"How is he?" Draco asked softly, trying to mask his concern the best he could.

The Healer favoured them all with a warm smile. "He's stable. He's conscious, but is having a hard time remembering what has happened. He suffered a bit of nerve damage and some minor brain swelling, but he should make a very good recovery. There's a chance he'll still have tremors, but only time will tell."

"Is there any chance we can see him?" Hermione asked, sure that she was simply the one who got the question out first.

"Only one at a time, I'm afraid, as he is in the Critical Care Unit," the Healer said, looking genuinely sympathetic. "Perhaps you first, you are the girlfriend, right?"

"Oh no," Hermione was quick to amend. "I'm just a friend. Draco, do you…?"

"You can go in first," Ron added. "We don't mind."

"Oh, but…" Draco started, but Hermione shook her head.

"We'll go check on Professor Snape," she said, motioning for Draco to follow the Healer.

He released her hand before taking a step closer to the door. "Thank you Hermione," he said before turning to Ron, "Ron." He then stepped up to the Healer, who nodded.

"Very well, right this way," he said before leading Draco back to Harry's room.

* * *

_Three Months Earlier_

* * *

Draco had arrived twenty minutes early to find an owl waiting for him. It was from Zabini, who had news that he and Pansy were to be married and were expecting a child. It asked him to be the godfather, of all things. He laughed as he read over Zabini's worried script. It seemed that he too had found something to care about. If Draco could do it, why couldn't Zabini?

He refolded the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. He had pulled it out of his closet now that it was cold enough to wear it again. Just the smell of the leather brought back memories of stalking around behind bookshelves and ducking in alleyways following Harry every time he was in Diagon Alley. He grinned as he smoothed a hand over the collar, remembering Harry's reaction when he saw Draco had bought the coat he had been admiring. When Draco shrugged it off and hung it on the back of the chair in the hotel room they frequented when Draco had information to pass on to Harry, he did notice that the other boy had a nervous habit of stroking the fur on the sleeves of the coat. He would worry it between his fingertips, and Draco just assumed that he was a tactile person. Petting it for a few more seconds before shrugging it off, Draco rolled up his shirtsleeves before making his way over to the bed, sitting down on the corner and kicking off his shoes. Harry was usually early as well, and he found himself bubbling with anticipation. He hoped that Harry wouldn't be late this time around, as he wanted as much time with the other boy as possible. He wanted to make Harry smile again like he had done the day before.

Mostly he just wanted to see Harry again.

He twisted his hands in his lap and had to stand up again, making his way over to the window. He watched as groups of shoppers quickly made their way down the street, most of them mothers with their children who were too young to be at Hogwarts this time of year. It was times like this, when he remembered what he would have been doing had he still been at Hogwarts, that he missed the place. When he didn't think about his sixth year and the stress that he had been under, he only had fond memories of Hogwarts, most of them concerning something horrible that he had done to Harry and his friends.

He raised his eyes back up the street and saw a solitary person wearing a very floppy hat walking down the street, and he smiled. Harry was walking quickly down the street wearing a hat extremely similar to the one that he had said looked ridiculous on Draco. He made a mental note to make fun of Harry for it. Draco was very relieved that Harry had been able to make it. He started to return to sitting on the bed when he saw something peculiar.

Himself.

Harry had stopped and was talking to someone who looked just like Draco in the street. Harry touched the other Draco lightly on the neck and the other Draco favoured him with a predatory smile. Draco backed away from the window before running out of the room, leaving his coat behind. He pushed his way through the crowded pub and emerged on the street, slightly out of breath and sporting a frantically pounding heart. He ran farther down the road, looking around frantically for Harry and the other Draco. "Harry!" he yelled, drawing a number of disapproving looks from passers-byes.

He spotted a shock of very familiar blond hair weaving quickly down the sidewalk, leading along a boy who was wearing a floppy hat. Draco broke out into a run but he wasn't fast enough to get into shouting range. "HARRY!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, but just as he spotted the pair they had disappeared again.

He pulled out his wand as he ran, knowing that he wasn't going to find them but hoping beyond hope that he would. He ran harder than he ever had in his life, harder even than when he was escaping Hogwarts the night Dumbledore had died. He nearly ran into an elderly witch who was walking much slower than he expected and in an effort to dodge out of the way he ran into a metal rubbish bin that was sitting on the outside corner of a small alleyway, kicking it over and sending himself sprawling to the ground, landing hard on his hands and knees. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, feeling the sting of torn skin on the palms of his hands.

"What was that?" a painfully familiar voice said from the alleyway, and Draco looked up quickly.

"Nothing," Draco heard his voice say, and he watched as the other Draco steered Harry's face from his direction before he had a chance to see what had made so much noise. He kissed him briefly, and Harry wrapped his arms around his waist. "Hold on," The other Draco instructed before he looked over in Draco's direction. Draco held eye contact with the other Draco for a long moment before the impostor smirked, lifting his wand and saying, "Disapparate" just as Draco screamed, "HARRY!" one last time.

Harry didn't hear him, and he disappeared into thin air in the arms of another man who wore Draco's face.

Draco collapsed to the sidewalk, not caring that he was surrounded by garbage and not caring how he must look sprawled there bleeding from the hands. His mind wouldn't work, and it took a long time for him to work up the strength to stand up.

He didn't remember he had left behind his coat until he received it in the post with a note informing him that he had forgotten it after his last stay. He instantly put it back on, petting the collar absently, thinking only of Harry.

* * *

_After I have travelled so far  
We'd set the fire to the third bar  
We'd share each other like an island  
Until exhausted, close our eyelids_

_-Snow Patrol _

* * *

Harry woke up feeling much like he had tumbled down multiple flights of stairs. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt. He was alive, though, and that thought alone was comforting.

He tried to remember where he was. He couldn't quite place why he was warm and clothed and lying in a bed, but he wasn't quite ready to open his eyes. He couldn't help but think that this was an elaborate trick. It really wouldn't surprise him, as he honestly wouldn't put it past the Death Eaters to lull him into a false security before attacking his mental state once again. He didn't want to do it anymore, and he very much wanted to give up.

He thought he remembered Draco, the real Draco, coming for him. He couldn't be sure, as he dreamed of Draco frequently and it may have just been another dream. He wished that it wasn't, but he could no longer trust his own mind. All the thinking made his head ache, and he finally decided to open his eyes to try to make a definite guess as to where he was.

He opened his eyes and the sudden light made his head pound uncomfortably. He groaned, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "Don't move, you'll only make it worse," he heard someone whisper before they took hold of one of his hands, pulling it from his face. He felt the mattress shift as someone sat down beside him.

"I hurt," Harry groaned, looking over in the direction of the person sitting with him. He could see that he didn't have on his glasses because he couldn't tell who it was, only that he or she looked like an angel, a halo surrounding their head. "Am I dead?" Harry asked, and he thought that if he was than it really wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

The angel laughed and handed Harry his glasses, which were mended. "You're not dead, Harry. You're in St. Mungo's."

Harry slipped on his glasses, his vision sliding into focus. Draco was sitting on his bed, looking worried but pleased. Harry studied his face for a long moment before lifting Draco's hand to his face, taking a deep breath. He smelt blood and dirt, and _Draco_. God…it was him.

"Draco…" Harry whispered, letting his eyes slide closed as relief washed over him. "I'm so glad it's you. It's really you…"

Draco laughed again before smoothing a hand over Harry's cheek. "It's really me," he said softly. He was quiet for a long moment before whispering, "I'm sorry about all of this. I never meant…" He fell silent, and Harry opened his eyes. "I only wanted to help you. If I knew you were going to get hurt I would have never have…after the first time I talked to you I wouldn't have done it again. I'm sorry."

Harry winced as he sat up, grabbing both of Draco's hands. "You did leave me alone. I was the one who talked to you, remember?" Draco started to say something but Harry shook his head once before rasping, "I don't regret anything. I only regret that I couldn't tell that it wasn't you that day. I only regret that I doubted you. I'm so sorry."

Harry's stomach clenched and for a long moment he wasn't sure if Draco would forgive him. He had a dark look on his face and he finally said, "You've got to be kidding, Harry. How do you turn everything around to being your fault? You have done nothing that needs forgiving!"

Harry blushed and muttered, "Neither have you."

Draco scowled before finally grudgingly nodding. "Do you need anything?" he asked, starting to climb up from the bed. "Weasley and Granger are waiting outside, so they'll probably want to come in to visit you in a bit. They're only letting in one person at a time, so…"

"I want you to stay," Harry said in a small voice. "I don't need anything, just…stay. Sit with me. I…I missed you."

"You did not," Draco scoffed, but sat back down anyway. Harry scooted over in his bed, patting the space beside him and Draco climbed in next to him. "I have a feeling you were a bit busy hating me."

Harry sighed, curling up beside Draco and pressed his forehead into his shoulder. "Draco, don't…" he said, and surprised himself when he found he was crying. He wrapped his arms around Draco and held his breath so he wouldn't sob. When he sniffled Draco lay his head over on top of Harry's.

"I'm sorry," Draco hissed, pressing a kiss in Harry's hair. Harry loosened his grip a little but still leaned against him.

"Stop apologizing," Harry said with a tearful laugh. He carefully settled back into bed as Draco draped his arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry yawned and he started to relax, only to have a violent tremor wrack his body.

He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped the sheets tightly as he tried to force his muscles to loosen. Draco held his arms down and whispered, "Shh…it's okay…it will pass…it will pass…" He sounded frightened, but didn't let go.

Harry finally stopped shaking, his breathing laboured. He gave himself time to catch his breath before asking, "Will that stop?"

Harry felt Draco take a deep breath before saying, "They don't know. You suffered a bit of…a bit of nerve damage. Are…are you alright? Does it still hurt?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied with a tired smile. "Much better now that you're here, I must say." Harry yawned before adding, "Tired. I'm going to sleep. Will you stay with me?"

Draco turned onto his side, laying an arm across Harry's waist. "Of course. Go to sleep. I won't leave, I promise."

Harry tucked his head under Draco's chin and sighed, the warmth that his embrace offered making him feel safer than he had in a very long time. In all actuality, it was probably the safest he had ever felt.

He was asleep quickly, lulled by the rhythmic carding of Draco's fingers through his hair.

* * *

Ron and Hermione didn't see Harry until he was taken out of the Critical Care Unit a couple of days later, and even then he was asleep most of the time. Draco was never far from his bedside, usually slumped down in the squashy armchair, doing his very best to hide the fact that he was dozing in and out of sleep.

Ron frequently left the room to Floo his father at the Ministry to see what they had done to Snape. The first couple of times he came back silent and obviously angry, simply sitting down next to Hermione in a huff.

He could feel Hermione staring at him but he didn't really want to talk about what he had found out. Ron was instead watching Malfoy watch Harry sleep. Draco was curled in the chair, chewing his bottom lip and watching over Harry like a hawk. Harry would shift in his sleep and Draco would straighten up a bit, only to slump back down when he wouldn't wake.

Ron stood and said, "Could I talk to you outside, Malfoy?" he asked, and watched as he jumped a bit and looked up in vague alarm.

"Yes, of course," Draco said quickly and rose from the chair, casting Harry a final look before making his way to the door, Ron following him out. He folded his arms across his chest and looked wary, more than likely convinced Ron was going to hit him. "Listen, Weasley, I never…"

"I'm not going to yell at you," Ron was quick to say, and noted that Malfoy did relax a bit. "Just so you know you don't have to be on your guard, at least not right now." Malfoy grinned a bit, and Ron continued. "I just wanted to say that…that I'm glad you helped Harry. Not just when we saved him, but with everything. As much as we didn't trust you, you gave Harry reason to. I can't say I'm sorry that I doubted you, because it was the logical thing to do, but I'm sorry about blaming everything on you."

He could tell that Malfoy didn't quite believe him as he said, "Alright. Thanks for trusting Snape as well. I'm sure he appreciated not having to hex either of you."

Ron could feel himself blushing, and the knowing smirk Malfoy wore suggested that he understood the reasoning behind it. Ron laughed a bit, ruffling his hair in a way that he had never done before meeting Harry. He watched as Malfoy's eyes slid from him back to Harry's door. After a moment Ron asked, "You really do care about him, then?"

"Of course," Malfoy said in a tone that could be nasty but wasn't. "I don't know where I would be if I didn't. Probably dead."

"So he saved your life," Ron asked, genuinely trying to work out how this could have happened. It didn't make much sense, but he supposed that most things concerning your feelings didn't.

He watched as Malfoy's face smoothed and a sort of peace overtook him. "He's saved everyone's life, not just mine. I can't imagine what it would be like if Harry hadn't…hadn't decided to shoulder the burden of everyone else. It wasn't his fight, but he made it his."

Ron nodded his ascent, and shifted from one foot to the other. "You can go back in if you want," he finally said before adding, "I'm going to go see what I can find out about Snape."

Malfoy nodded and opened the door. Ron tucked his hands in his pockets and set off down the hallway. "Weasley?" Malfoy's voice was soft, and he was speaking in a tone that Ron had never heard him use before. He turned, his eyebrows raised in question. "Thank you," Malfoy added, even though he couldn't meet Ron's gaze when he said it. "For understanding, I mean. You've no idea how much…" he trailed off, seemingly unable to make that admission. "Just thank you."

Ron almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but instead he just said, "It's nothing," before disappearing down the corridor.

When he finally returned it was with a rather worn-looking Professor Snape at his side. Hermione leapt to her feet and wrapped the professor in a tight hug, even though every last pore of him screamed that he didn't want to be embraced. He very hesitantly returned the hug with one quick squeeze before attempting to pull away from her. "Yes, I'm quite…Ms. Granger, that's quite enough. Really."

Hermione finally did pull away, whispering quiet and repetitive thanks. She didn't seem keen to let go of him, but she eventually did, guiding him to her chair, but he didn't sit. "Oh Professor, I do hope they didn't do anything too horrible. Surely you've been cleared, considering…"

"The Ministry has…" he sighed, and noticed that Draco had awoken at the sound of his voice. "They've released me until my trial. Apparently the testimony of half of the Order of the Phoenix is enough to persuade them to do so."

"That's ridiculous," Ron muttered darkly. Hermione sat gingerly on the edge of Harry's bed, fuming.

Ron watched as Snape made his way over to Draco, laying a hand on his shoulder. Neither one of them said anything, but Draco offered Snape a weak smile before looking back over at Harry.

"Potter's alright I gather," Snape asked, and Hermione nodded.

"He's fine. Just tired. He really should wake up and have something to eat."

Ron stood, offering to go get him something. As he was leaving Hermione leaned over to shake Harry's shoulder gently, whispering that he needed to wake up.

"Hermione?" Harry rasped, and Draco climbed out of his chair to get him some water.

"I'm waking you up so you can eat something," Hermione said softly, favouring him with a kind smile. "Ron went to fetch you some food."

Harry nodded as he took the cup Draco offered him, drinking half of it in one go. Draco went to sit back down in his chair but Harry whispered, "Don't…"

Draco flushed, whispering, "Harry, I really don't think your company would approve…"

"Don't care," Harry said with the shadow of a pout. Hermione laughed and Snape rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Draco gave him a long look before sitting down next to Harry in bed. "Thank you."

Draco muttered a 'you're welcome' and refused to look at anything but his hands.

"I should be going," Snape said, favouring Harry with an appraising look. "I simply wanted to make sure you made it. Ms. Granger," he inclined his head before looking at Draco. "Draco. Don't let him guilt you into doing everything he wants."

Draco chuckled uncomfortably, not quite meeting his godfather's eyes. "Yes, well…"

"Professor Snape, don't worry about your trial, there's no way they can convict you of anything," Hermione said quickly, causing Harry to wrinkle his brow in confusion.

"I'm glad to have your confidence," he replied in a dark tone before leaving the room in an, as always, impressive swirl of black robes.

"What trial?" Harry asked, and Draco simply lay back on Harry's pillow, proud to have a place to get comfortable that wasn't an ancient armchair.

* * *

_Three Months Later_

* * *

Even after all this time, Harry isn't quite sure if it will ever be over. He would check the _Prophet_ every morning, but a day hadn't passed that he hadn't read his own name in it. He would toss them aside and Hermione would pick it up to read, letting out the occasional snort. "I really think you should do an interview Harry," she finally said as she refolded the paper. "They've got it all wrong. Apparently you were in a fight to the death with Draco when Voldemort came in and got caught in the crossfire."

"Can we not talk about Draco?" Harry said with a grimace.

"Have you still not talked to him?" Hermione replied with a badly concealed eye roll. "I think you're being rather ridiculous. He does care about you, and just because he isn't ready to say that he loves you doesn't mean he doesn't. It's nothing to break up over!"

Harry wrinkled his nose. "We aren't _broken up_," he said before gloomily adding, "We weren't ever really dating in the first place." He put a kettle on and climbed onto the counter of the cramped kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He frowned before shrugging. "It doesn't seem to bother him to be away, or else he'd be back by now."

Hermione climbed out of the lumpy armchair that Ron had dragged into the kitchen for some unknown reason and made her way over to Harry, leaning against the counter next to him. "This isn't his house Harry," she said, trying to conceal her annoyance. "He may not feel comfortable here. I didn't really see you going out of your way to help him do so."

"I was _sick_," Harry argued, but his heart wasn't really in it. Of course Hermione was right. But where would Draco have gone? His first guess would be to Snape's, but no one, not even Draco, was sure where he disappeared to after he was cleared. Harry was sure that Snape was trying not to be tracked down by the remaining Death Eaters and as much as Harry hated that he was always on the run, he refused to stay with Harry, Ron, and Hermione at Number Twelve because he claimed that he would go crazy. Harry seriously didn't doubt it.

"Go find him," Hermione finally said as she took the boiling kettle off the stove. "I don't know why you put a kettle on, you don't even drink tea…"

Harry climbed off the counter, exiting the kitchen and grabbing both his and Draco's coats from the closet by the door. "Thanks Hermione," he called before stepping out the door.

"Do you even know where to start?" she yelled back, and Ron poked his head out of the study.

"Are you yelling at me?" he asked, and Hermione just laughed.

Harry wasn't sure why he didn't think of it before. Of course he knew where Draco had gone. He stepped into the familiar musty main room of The Leaky Cauldron. He squinted in the darkness, and Tom the barman jerked his head towards the small staircase that lead to the rooms.

"He's been 'ere for ages," Tom croaked. "Been wondrin' where you've been."

Harry bit his lip before offering Tom a nod of thanks, slowly making his way up the creaking staircase. The door to room seven was pulled closed, but Harry knew that Draco was behind it. He turned the knob and it was unsurprisingly unlocked.

Draco didn't even look up from his lap when Harry entered the room. He simply stood, brushing past Harry to go into the bathroom. "You caught me at a bad time," Draco called out from behind the shut door. "I'm on my way out, you see. I have plans with a few of my friends from Hogwarts. You remember Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson? They're getting married in a month and they'd like my opinion about a few things. I've told them I'd be more than happy to oblige. They asked if you'd like to come, but I told them you were busy."

"I don't understand why you're mad at me," Harry said, and he instantly wanted to punch himself. "So…that's a lie, but…"

"You're damn right that's a lie!" Draco hissed as he threw open the door. "Honestly Potter, you really think you can understand what I'm feeling? You can't tell me that I don't care about you, so don't even start."

Harry turned back into the main room, dropping both coats in the chair Draco had vacated. "I just…I know you care about me Draco, you saved my life, didn't you? It's just I thought that maybe…maybe you only cared because you felt sorry for me. It's stupid, I know…"

"Stupid?" Draco snarled. "Of course it's stupid! There's nothing to feel sorry for you about! I mean…I know you had a lot to worry about, what with the Dark Lord and everything, but you had help! You had friends! Plus, I detested you too much to pity you."

"Thanks," Harry grumbled and plopped down on the bed. He was disappointed and a bit angry, and he could feel a tensing along his spinal chord that signalled the start of a seizure. "Draco…" he ground out before his back bowed, his head bouncing against the lumpy mattress as an uncomfortable groan escaped his lips.

Draco quickly walked over to the bed and climbed on top of Harry, sitting on his stomach and pinning his arms to his sides. Harry's eyes were closed but he was shaking violently, his fingernails dug deeply into the palms of his hands. "Calm down Harry, you shouldn't get upset," Draco said softly and after a long moment Harry started to calm down, more gentle tremors occasionally overtaking his body.

"I'm sorry," he finally said and Draco climbed off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Harry.

Draco sighed and turned his face profile to Harry. "Don't apologize. You can't help it."

Harry carefully sat up, leaning against the headboard with a sigh. He watched Draco for a long moment before letting out a sigh. "I just don't see why it's so hard for you to say that you love me. I know it hasn't been that long, but…I mean, if you don't love me you can say that too, I just want to know where we stand, is all."

Draco muttered something that sounded awfully close to 'girl', and turned around to look at Harry. After a long silence that made Harry squirm, Draco said, "It's just that I'm sure that as soon as I say it, something is going to go wrong. I haven't…I haven't said it before. I want to mean it when I say it, not just because you want me to. Okay?"

Harry nodded, and Draco took hold of one of his hands. "I love you," Harry said softly, and he winced when a rogue tremor overtook his abdomen. "The more I'm with you the more I am sure of that."

"I know you love me," Draco replied with a small smile. He crawled into bed next to Harry and softly said, "You…you have to know that I…" Draco flushed before shrugging. "I do, you know."

Harry smiled and leaned his head against Draco's shoulder. A silence enveloped the room and Harry finally said, "If you need to leave to meet your friends you can. I brought your coat for you, I thought you might want it."

"I'm not seeing Zabini and Pansy until tomorrow, and I told them that I'd make you come. I have a feeling you'll want to ask Pansy all about being pregnant. You seem the type to love nasty little children," Draco replied, laying a hand on Harry's thigh. "I've all the time in the world, and I must say I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. What do you say we have a go for old time's sake?"

"Draco, I…" Harry lowered his head. "I don't know if…I mean to say that…there were some things, when I was…I don't know if I can do…_things_…just yet."

Draco tried his best not to get too angry. "They tortured you that way? Crazy fucking bastards…to stoop so low as to…I'll fucking kill them."

"I think that's been taken care of," Harry said with a small smile. "It's just there are a few things that…that I don't want anymore. Namely, the…" he made a vague motion towards the ties holding back the curtains. "I just don't…" he shrugged.

"It's fine," Draco said soothingly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, yeah? I'll just…I'll just take it slow, and you can tell me if it's too much. You trust me, don't you? After all this time?"

"Always," Harry replied, and Draco unfastened his trousers. Harry tried not to think about the other Draco's fingers wrapped tightly around his erection, whispering words that made his skin feel too tight and made him hate himself.

His Draco's touch felt completely different. It was gentle and warm, and his breath hitched when he felt his warm mouth engulf his weeping erection. He leisurely arched up into Draco's mouth and his muscles ached a bit, but the pleasure building him his groin overshadowed the dull pain.

"Draco…" he breathed, smoothing a hand through his hair as Draco brought a hand up to cup and roll Harry's heavy balls. Harry was overwhelmed by the attentiveness of Draco to his desires and needs when he hadn't even told him in the first place. He was so close to coming that he was trying to force himself to calm down, but when he felt a hum resonate around the slick, sensitized skin of his cock and he came with a violent shutter that nearly caused him to have another minor seizure.

Draco slowly licked Harry clean before climbing up next to Harry, kissing him leisurely before laying his head on Harry's shoulder. "I want…" Harry started, reaching for Draco's crotch and making quick work of his fastenings.

"No, you really don't have to…" Draco started, but Harry's hand had already slipped into the waistband of the pair of black silk knickers that Draco was wearing. Draco flushed a bit before muttering, "I already…I came."

"And it's official, you wear girls knickers all the time," Harry added with a small grin as he pulled his hand from his knickers, tentatively licking Draco's come from his fingertips.

Draco snickered and could feel himself getting hard again at the sight of Harry tasting him. "At least I wear underpants," he quipped, and he heard Harry laugh for the first time in a long while. Draco nudged Harry with his shoulder and Harry continued to laugh, and Draco knew that they would be okay. He was sure that Harry wouldn't take life so seriously anymore now that he didn't have to worry about the Dark Lord anymore. He knew that he could make Harry happy, something that he didn't even know he wanted to do in the first place. Harry was recovering, Draco was learning, and all was well.

The End.


End file.
